The Goddess's Daughter
by rmrose
Summary: Avery Keaton, a girl abandoned by her two parents at a very young age, has grown up as a loner. She doesn't trust people, nor does she like them. That all changes though when one night, she meets a man named Loki. With him, she discovers two things she needs: her true home in Asgard and the God of Mischief as hers. Loki/OC
1. Chapter 1

As soon as I notice the deep breaths that indicate sleep from my client, I lift the cheap, ugly motel bed comforter off my body and swing my legs over the side of the bed. I've only been in here five minutes and the job's already done. Why can't every customer be like that? I smirk to myself in the dark as I pull my white tube top back on. For once, possibly for the first time in the history of the world, a man's poor performance is a woman's gain.

I pick up my knee high boots, not bothering to spend the time to put them on since this was my last appointment and I want to get out as fast as possible, and retrieve my discarded purse from the armchair near the window before quietly exiting the motel room.

As I walk down the sidewalk to where I left my car, I cross my arms over my chest. I hate my job with a passion, but at least the money's good. I'm my own boss, so I keep 100% of my profit, and with my reputation I can charge steep prices. Well, my underground reputation, that is. I don't know how I've gotten away with it for so long – maybe it has something to do with how I don't flaunt my wealth or work the corner – but the cops are none the wiser. At this stage in the game, my clients make appointment with me two weeks in advance.

I'd get another job if I thought it would pay as well, but the fact is none would, and the mortgage on the house Grandma left me ain't cheap. A girl's got to do what a girl's got to do. At least I gave myself the week off for my birthday.

After half an hour of walking barefoot and ignoring cat calls from the late night drunks, I finally reach my car, a basic red Honda Accord. Nothing special Nothing to make people suspect me of anything. As I unlock the car, a familiar sense of loneliness and self-hate overwhelms me.

The drive home is filled with those same feelings. As usual, I think of how long it'll be before I can quit this job and live in comfort. I have a little over 1 million dollars in my saving, but I want to keep building my money up until my mortgage is completely paid off. I'd rather not dip into my savings to make a house payment.

The sun is just peeking over the horizon when I pull into my drive way, and while I rub my eyes I think of tonight. My close friend, Ruby, and I plan to go out to our favorite club to celebrate my birthday. It'll be nice to just spend a night laughing, drinking, dancing, and possibly flirting. I just pray a former client isn't there to ruin my fun.

Inside my home, I set my keys in the bowl on the desk next to the front door. A picture of my grandmother sits next to it, smiling wide, holding a young Avery close to her chest. I can't look at it for too long. Otherwise I'll start crying. Next to it, a picture of my parents sits. It only remains there because my grandmother loved seeing her son so dearly, and, even though she's passed, I want to honor her wishes. I despise it. It's hard to like a picture of the people who abandoned you

When my friends come over, they always comment on how beautiful my mother was. They're right, but I don't like agreeing with them. Not about her. She is pretty though, at least in the picture. I don't know about now. I haven't seen her since I was seven. I share her eye color – light, beautiful blue – and overall face – heart-shaped, almond eyes, almost full lips – but my hair is that of my father's – deep brown, so brown it appears black to some. Grandma said their names were Bella and Matthew. Bella and Matthew Keaton.

Tregul, an ancient, blue-gray cat that was my mother's before she left, curls around my feet and rubs against my leg while Mystic, the tuxedo kitten I got just a few months ago, jumps on the desk and starts mewling at me. I smile and scratch behind Mystic's ears. "Well good morning to you two, too," I greet as if they were my children. "Hungry?"

As if in response, the weak mewling rises into meows of begging. I laugh and step around Tregul to the kitchen to get their food. They follow me, meowing incessantly the entire way. With their bowls now in front of them, full of dry cat food, they rub their heads thankfully against me and stalk to their respective bowls. I watch them lovingly for a second or two before a yawn surfaces to my lips. Sleep. Now. Sleep is good.

I trudge up the stairs to the master bedroom, a light blue room with a brown Queen bed in the middle against a wall. I drowsily shed my clothes and crawl under the covers, not bothering to find night clothes. Within no more than five minutes, my eyes are shut, my breathing slow, my dreams filled with excitement and hopes of tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

My sleep seems short, but when I open my eyes, the sunlight slanting through my window suggests late afternoon. That and the digital clock on my bedside table reads 5:07. Tregul lies at the foot of my bed, curled around my feet like he loves so much, and Mystic lies on my pillow right above my head. I don't want to get up, but I'm not physically tired. More mentally. I've only been awake a minute or two, but my mind's already alive and buzzing.

I want more from tonight then what I usually settle for. Dancing and drinking is fun and all, but it's become routine. Flirting would be great, too, if it didn't lead to the generic, "You're Avery, aren't you? My friend's told me a lot about you." Nothing says romance like the boy you wanted to innocently get to know recognizing you as a friend's pay-for-service fuck buddy. I want to meet a guy that has never heard my name uttered from another person's mouth. One who comes to me with pure intentions. Is that too much to ask for?

I rub my eyes lazily. I'm being ridiculous. It's nice to have hopes, but I shouldn't let them get so high. Odds are things will be like they always are. Meet up with Ruby, order a drink, dance with a stranger, order another drink, dance some more, drink, dance, puke, dance, drink, drunken heart to heart with Ruby, drink until blackout, wake up either in another bed or in my bed with a complete stranger. Party time. Excellent. All that YOLO shit.

My stomach growls, and it's loud enough for Tregul to lift his head up drowsily in confusion. I slide a hand over it. I haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon, and now I'm regretting it.

I finally get up, pull on a robe, and head back down to the kitchen. Mystic follows me, hoping for a handout from whatever I cook, mewling with excitement when I pull out a can of tuna fish to make a sandwich.

A few minutes later and Mystic sits in my lap, eyeing my food and mewling pitifully while I watch the news in the living room. Tregul decides to join us, but only curls up in the corner of the couch and fall asleep again.

A commercial blips over the screen and I look away momentarily. Mystic's stopped whining for food, Tregul's feet twitch in sleep, and I'm alone in a house in a robe. I've officially become the crazy cat lady. Oh, the excitement.

My phone buzzes on the coffee table with a call from Ruby. "Hey, Rue," I greet while I press the phone to my ear.

"Hey, want to go out early?"

I mute the TV and push Mystic out of my lap so I can stand up. "I don't know. What did you have in mind?"

"Come over. We'll watch a movie and get ready together. Sound like a plan?"

"Sure. I'll be over in a bit."

"'Kay, bye."

"Bye."

Fifteen minutes after I hang up the phone, I'm dressed, have my stuff pack up to get ready, the cats are fed, and I'm in the car on my way to Ruby's. Ten minutes more and I'm outside of her apartment, knocking on the door.

She throws it open without greeting and goes to her TV, fiddling with her Blu-Ray player. "Dammit," She mutters under her breath.

"What?" I inquire as I set my stuff down next to the door.

Ruby pushes a strand of strawberry blond hair out of her face in frustration. "Movie won't play."

I roll my eyes and kneel next to her. "Let me see," I say calmly. She moves aside and lets me pop the disc tray open. _Superman Returns_ sits in the slot, and I sigh unhappily. "Really?" I ask exasperatedly while I pluck the DVD out.

"What?!"

"Superman? You couldn't spring for _The Dark Knight Rises_ at least? Pick the lesser of two evils?"

She shoves me. "Shut up. I love Superman."

"Faggot." I turn the disc upside down and close my eyes at what I see. "Did you check the disc?"

"…No."

I hold it out to her. "Way to go, genius. The shit is scratched out of it."

Ruby takes the disc sadly. "Crap… Can we fix it?"

"Nope. You can go buy a new one."

"I don't have enough money to spend on a movie right now…"

"Oh, nooooo," I cry sarcastically. "What else we got?"

"_Ocean's Eleven_?"

"Nah."

"_Apollo 13_?"

"Not now."

"_Boondock Saints_."

"We've watched that thirty times."

"_My Little Pony_."

"…Hold onto that."

"Well, what did you have in mind?"

"I crawl over to her movie rack and scan the cases. After a bit of searching, I find a movie I'll watch and throw it at Ruby. "Put that in."

Ruby's quiet for a moment. "_Sherlock Holmes_?"

"Mhm."

"Why?"

I slowly look at her, my mouth slightly agape. "Why? For the glory of Robert Downey Jr. of course!"

Ruby rolls her eyes and sticks the disc into the player. "You dork."

"Big talk from the brony who knows computer speak."

We sit on her couch and watch the movie for a couple hours, then spend another nerding out over the bonus features. We finally click off the TV, minds fangirling silently over Holmes, and wordlessly start to get ready; I get dressed in the white halter top and black denim shorts I packed, and Ruby sorts through her closet in search of something cute to wear. Fifteen minutes of cursing and flying clothes and she's finally pulled a cropped, one shouldered, green and blue floral, flowing top and white cotton shorts. She comes out of her closet, does a twirl, and smiles. "What do you think?"

I sit on her bed and lean back on my hands. "You look like a whore."

She narrows her eyes. "I'm going to take that as a compliment coming _from_ a whore."

I laugh slightly. "Okay, hon. Whatever stops the tears at night."

She rolls her eyes and heads to the bathroom to do her makeup, and I get up to follow her.

I sit on the counter and watch her paint her face, kicking her when she just barely applies eyeliner to make her screw up. She slaps my leg each time with a curse.

I don't bother with makeup. Never did except for dance when I was little. I think it's like putting on a mask. The guy who comes up to you won't think _you're_ pretty. He'll think the crap you spent an hour layering on is pretty. Besides, I think I look fine without it.

Ruby finishes her "artistry" (her word, not mine) and finally grab her purse and steps into her white pumps. "Ready?"

"Been ready."


	3. Chapter 3

We leave her apartment and take a cab over to the club since odds are we'll need one on the way home. That and we're in New York, and it's just a hell of a lot easier. When we get to the club, the bounced immediately lets us past, but not without a pinch of my ass. I smile back flirtatiously, but only because he's an occasional client. On the inside, I want to hurt him _so_ badly.

Ruby doesn't let me think about it though. She's already dragging me to the side of the room to the bar. Not surprising. Ruby _loves_ alcohol.

She orders a giant, fishbowl sized margarita, and I stick to a Long Island iced tea. Within a few sips, she's feeling lose. "I'm gonna go dance," she screams in my ear over the music. "Come with me."

I nod and ask the bartender to hold our bags while we dance. Once they're behind the counter, Ruby takes my hand, turns around, and leads me to the dance floor, already moving to the beat, and once we're in the middle of the crowd she goes berserk. She whips her hair back, smacking me in my face, and cuts loose. She turns around and grabs my hands, and before I know it we're moving our hips and she's hugging and laughing. Guys that were dancing with other girls blow them off to hang with us. One brave guy dances between us and takes Ruby off to the side, but she's gone hardly five seconds before there's a guy I front of me. He's pretty cute, but nothing extremely special. Short brown hair, brown eyes, jockish face. Worth a little harmless dancing.

At the end of the song, Ruby's laughing like a madwoman and is pulling me back to our drinks. She takes hers without sitting down and with a jut of her chin gestures for me to take mine. I obey and follow her lead to lift the drink to make a toast. "Cheers to a happy birthday for the best friend any girl could ever have!" she calls over the pounding bass.

I smile and take a long pull from the iced tea, making a face when I'm overcome with the taste of alcohol. I start coughing as the stuff burns my throat, but I hardly have time to soothe my throat before Ruby's tapping my shoulder like crazy.

"Avery, Avery, Avery!"

"What?!" I sputter out.

"Dude, your six o'clock, freakin' hottie checking us out."

I blush slightly and turn around to see just how hot this guy is. I'm sure she's overreacting. She often does. He may be cute, but-

No, never mind. She's right. She's totally and completely right.

I've never seen him before, but the mischievous smile he gives me makes me feel like I should have. His black hair is slicked back and hangs at his shoulders, and his eyes are bluer than blue. He's not dressed for a club though. In fact, I'd expect him to be the kind of guy to be home with the wife at this time of night. But the way he works his suit, it drives me crazy at first glance. White shirt, black tie, black and white scarf, long black coat, black pants, and a cane with a blue light coming from the handle. I guess it's true what they say about a man in a well-tailored suit.

I turn back to Ruby, sure my mouth is wide open. "Whoa my God."

"Right?" Ruby squeals. "We should go talk to him."

I stare at her. "What?"

She tries to turn me around and push me towards him, but I resist. "You heard me! Come on, he's cute!"

"Yeah, but you know how I am with people."

"Yeah, you hate them. So do I. But he's a hot people. Embrace the hot people!"

I cock an eyebrow. "Oh, that's only a little shallow, Ruby."

"Shut up, and let's go." She grabs my hand and tries to pull me over towards him.

"No no no no no," I protest as a child would, pulling back on her.

She turns back and raises her eyebrows, and I can almost hear her saying, "Avery, let's go."

"If he's really interested in us, he'll come talk to us," I point out.

"Oh God, you're so old-fashioned!" Ruby sighs exasperatedly, but she lets go of my hand and returns to her barstool. I tilt my head slightly back to the man, debating whether or not to look at him, but I decide against it and follow Ruby back to the bar.

For the next several minutes, I run my fingers around my drink, fighting my urge to look back up at the man. I close my eyes and try to imagine him again, and the picture my brain pulls up forces a shiver up my spine and down my arms. Why can't my clients look like him? I might actually like my job if they did.

It's been too long. He must have moved on. I can't help but feel slightly disappointed at this, but I guess it's not that surprising. Typical guy.

"Excuse me, but –."

Oh my God, he has a British accent. I'm done. I'm so done. I'll be a puddle here in 5 seconds.

"Hi!"

Oh my God, Ruby's talking to him. I'm done. I'm so done. He's gonna go home with her.

"Oh, hello. And what is your name?"

"Ruby. Ruby Nelson. And you?"

Oh my God, they're flirting. I'm done. I'm so done. I might as well give up here and now. Of course he'll be infatuated with Ruby. Everyone is.

There's a kissing sound. Oh God, are they kissing already? Maybe I should be glad he's not going after to me. "The pleasure is mine, Miss Nelson. I'm Loki."

Ruby giggles like crazy.

The barstool next to me slides out, and a dark form fills the seat. My heart is pounding like crazy against my ribs. Why am I so nervous? I'm never nervous. Ever. In fact, I'm usually the one instigating the flirting. Flirting gets me clients, but this guy is different. I don't want him as a client. I want whatever happens with him to be real. And – And – And what the hell am I saying? I haven't even spoken two words to this guy, and I'm practically head over heels for him. This never happens.

"Pardon me, Miss," the man – what was his name? Loki? – calls softly to me. My stomach flips at his accent, but I manage to calmly look at him.

His eyes lock on mine, and I'm instantly hypnotized. His lips curl up into that cute, playful grin I noticed from across the room. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I couldn't help but notice you earlier. My name is Loki."

I smile bashfully. "I'm Avery," I squeak out. I stick my hand out to shake his. "It's nice to meet you."

He takes my hand, but, instead of shaking it, turns it so my knuckles are up. He keeps his eyes locked with mine as he brings my hand closer to his lips. "Believe me, the pleasure is all mine." He pauses between "all" and "mine" as if he's trying to emphasize how happy he is to know me. It may have worked, too, if he hadn't said practically the same thing to Ruby. Still, when he draws my hand up and brushes his lips against the knuckle before kissing the back of my hand, I feel my face flush.

Who is this guy? I've never met a guy who greets a woman by kissing her hand. Do they still do that in England? Either way, there's something insanely attractive about a man who acts like a gentleman. Especially one who still manages to look so bad.

He looks at my drink and minimizes his smile to more of a smug grin. "Would you like another?"

It takes me a while to figure out what he means, and when I do I turn even redder. "Oh, um, yeah, but I'll get it. Don't worry."

"I insist."

"No really." I grab my purse and fumble through it for my wallet. Then a hand rests over my wrist, stunning me.

"Please, allow me," Loki purrs.

"O-Okay," I whisper. I look back at him to thank him, but once again, I'm transfixed by his eyes. They're so blue. So freaking blue. His lips, now void of a smile, thin and smooth and so kissable…

"Hey, Avery!"

I jump back at Ruby's voice, just realizing that I had been mere inches from Loki's lips. I look over my barstool to see Ruby putting on what I realize as her fake – though convincing – smile. "Come to the bathroom with me?"

"Uh…" I hesitate. Ruby raises her eyebrows just slightly, sending me a silent Now, Avery. "Okay." I look back at Loki again, smiling faintly. "I'll be right back."

"I'll still be here."

"You better be." The words are out of my mouth before I realize it and once I do my eyes widen and my hand flies to cover my mouth.

Loki only laughs, though, and meets my gaze happily. "I swear on my brother's life, I'll be here upon your return."

I lower my hand and smile warmly. "I'm holding you to that." I slide off the barstool and allow Ruby to take my hand and guide me to the ladies room, smiling to myself just slightly the entire time.


	4. Chapter 4

The bathroom is packed, but that's really not unusual on a Saturday night. Girls fixing their hair and makeup, crying, yelling, and vomiting violently while their friends laugh and groan intermittently. Ruby leads me in front of an open mirror and starts nitpicking at her bangs. "So, about Loki."

I lean against the counter next to her and let my smile widen. "What about him?"

"Thanks for flirting with him in front of me right after he blew me off."

I frown. "I didn't flirt with him. If either of us were doing anything even remotely flirty it was him."

"Oh, please, you were literally inches from kissing him just now."

"Dude, I had no clue what I was doing!"

Ruby scoffs. "I'm sure. You always have to have a guy. That's why you're so damn good at your job."

I roll my eyes. The insult stings slightly, but it's not the first time I've heard it from Ruby. "Whatever. If you're going to act like that then I'm going back out to talk to Loki."

Ruby shrugs. "Then go. Happy birthday, bitch."

I push off of the counter and head out of the bathroom, back into deafening music and sweaty bodies. From where I stand I can see Loki still at his seat at the bar, and a half dozen girls a few feet away pointing and giggling. The anger Ruby ignited swells in my chest and down into my stomach. I've only known Loki for a few minutes, but I already feel protective of him.

In haste, I dodge across the dance floor and across the room to the bar, just as one girl from the group dispatches herself from her friends, her sights set on Loki. Now I'm pushing people out of my way to get back to him. The girl catches sight of me and speeds up. I match her pace, but she's already so close. She may beat me.

I stop in my tracks. What does it matter? I pointed out earlier that he was flirting with me. And Ruby was very open and ready to talk to him, but aside from greeting her, he basically ignored her. He wanted to talk to me. Out of every girl in this building I caught his eye. He came to me. I have nothing to fear. Might as well take my time.

It's actually kind of fun to just stroll back and watch the girl try to flirt with Loki. He's polite, of course, but not to the same extent and he was to Ruby and me.

When I get back to my stool, the girl is giggling like a little school girl, and Loki smiles that smile. Then he notices me a few feet from him and his smile widens even more. I return it warmly and retake my seat. A fresh drink sits in place of the old one.

Loki says goodbye to the girl and turns his attention on me. "That was quick."

"Ruby wanted to speak to me."

"About anything important?"

Just you. "Not really?"

Loki's quiet for a moment. "Are you sure? Because Ruby seemed a little…" he trails off.

I look back at my drink and chew my lip. "Yeah… She was a little…"

"Did I cause any harm, Avery?"

I look at him instantly, eyes filled with concern. "No, no, of course not. Ruby's just-"

Ruby appears on Loki's other side, a pouty frown hampering her face. "Well, I'm afraid I'm off. It's getting late." I check my watch. It's only 11:30. We've been at the club less than an hour. "But I had to come say goodbye." She leans in and kisses Loki's cheek, tentatively biting her bottom lip when she pulls back. "Bye, Loki."

"Goodbye, Ruby."

Rue floats over to my chair and wraps an arm around me from behind, digging her nails subtly into my arm and making me grimace. "Happy Birthday, Avery." She digs her nails in deeper. She's had to have broken skin. "Love you," she continues with just a hint of venom.

She releases me, and I realize I was holding my breath the entire time she "embraced" me. I check my shoulder for blood, but find only four, purple, crescent-shaped marks in my shoulder. I glare daggers at Ruby as she collects her purse from the bartender. As she leaves, she turns and blows a kiss I'm not sure to which of us.

I turn back to my drink and angrily wrap my hands around it, hunching my shoulders over it.

A hand slides across my shoulder to the back of my neck. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Jealous."

"What?"

"She's just jealous."

"Of what?"

I'm quiet. I glance at him furtively, my face turning red. "You."

"I thought you said-"

"Well, not _of_ you, but of how you're talking to me."

Loki's silent again. I look at him somewhat remorsefully. His eyes are soft, but he stares at nothing. His hands rest on the bar, locked with each other.

I feel bad. He obviously feels guilty now for what happened with Ruby, but it's really not him.

I pull the other Avery out – the one that flirts with anyone – and slide a hand down his forearm to his clasped hands. He looks up at me, a sly though half-hearted smile on his face. I lean in slightly, giving a small, warm, alluring grin. "Let's dance."

His smile grows to full size. "If that's what you wish."

"Trust me, I wish it."


	5. Chapter 5

Loki's shoulder supports my head as my eyes droop lazily. The tires of the cab hiss as they roll across rain-sodden pavement. He smells like leather even though he has none on.

The scenery that passes by the window grows familiar to my alcohol fuzzied brain. We're getting close to my home, and, to be honest, I'm slightly disappointed. When we get to my house, I'll have to leave Loki's shoulder, and I really don't want to do that.

But unfortunately, we're in front of my house in no time. I consider closing my eyes and pretending to be asleep, but I don't know what I would gain from it. So I wearily lift my head and look at Loki. "I had fun tonight," I whisper.

Loki smirks. "So did I. Will I see you again?"

"Name the time and I'll be there."

"Tomorrow. Dinner. Sound good?"

I nod. "Where?"

"Name the place."

"I don't care."

Loki puts on a cocky expression and leans back in the seat. "Then I'll surprise you."

I giggle awkwardly and open the car door. "I'll see you tomorrow night then."

"Don't say goodbye just yet," Loki halts. He opens his own door, steps out, and walks around to my side. He extends his hand to me to guide me out of the car, and I gladly take it. His fingers lace with mine as we amble slowly up the sidewalk to my front door.

In my slightly drunken state, I take my time in climbing the stairs of the porch and even require a steadying grip from Loki, but eventually I stand on the porch upheld by my own will. I face Loki, unsure of what to expect. I don't think he'd attempt to kiss me, but I'm not certain. And I'm not certain that I don't want him to.

His eyes glimmer, now a mixture of blue and green, and he takes my other hand in his as well. "What time shall I collect you?"

I shrug bashfully. "I don't know."

"Come now, you must have some idea."

An idea sprouts in my mind, and it makes me smile just to think of it. I close the gap between us and lead his arms around my waist. He studies my movements carefully, unsure of my intentions. My hands slide back up his arms, over his shoulders, and to his chest. I lean in slowly, lips next to his ear, and say just above a whisper, "Surprise me."

I pull back and let my hands slide up to lock behind his neck. A black eyebrow arches over a blue-green eye, and that familiar mischievous grin grows on thin lips. "I believe I can do that."

"I bet you can," I agree, dropping an octave from my normal voice, and press my lips against his, savoring each and every second.

Loki tightens his hold on my waist, catching me off guard, and kisses back with enough force to tilt me back slightly. Even though it surprises me, it is definitely not unwelcome.

He pulls away too quickly for me. A hunger develops within me, craving more, but I try to play it off as if I got exactly what I wanted. I think about inviting him in, but the part of me that still has some common sense shoots that down. I smile lovingly and unlatch my arms from his neck. My hands slide down to his elbows, and his hands move to hold me waist.

His smile mirrors mine, and it drives me crazy in the process. His right hands leaves my waist and moves to caress the back of my head, and his eyes dart over my face in study before resting on my own eyes. "I'll be here at 7:00 on the dot."

I nod gently. "Okay."

He bends my head down a bit and kisses my forehead. My face flushes and an extremely quiet giggle leaves my throat. When he pulls back, his hands travel once again to grasp mine. "Goodnight, Avery."

"Goodnight, Loki."

As his hand slip out of mine, I can't help but feel a pang of something similar to disappointment. When his gaze breaks with mine my smile falls. When he starts walking away, I turn away and open the front door.

I've barely stepped through the door and closed it behind me before Tregul brushes up against my legs. His purring is so strong that I can feel it transfer from one leg to another and up to my knee. I smile half-heartedly and lean down to pick him up and curl him into my arms. He rubs his head against my chin and somehow manages to purr even more. I giggle and rub just behind his ears. "Someone's in a good mood," I whispered, and as if in response he mewls softly and flicks his rough tongue under my chin. "What's made you so happy, Tre-Tre?"

He nuzzles my chin once more and jumps out of my arms. He stalks to the front door, sits down in front of it, and looks over his shoulder expectantly, mewing impatiently when I give him a look. "You're acting strange," I comment dismissively with a wave of my hand. He flicks his tail in frustration, but I only yawn and head upstairs to my room.

Mystic lay curled on my pillow, one eye half open to watch me as I get ready for bed. Aside from brushing my teeth, I only strip off my clothes and crawl under the covers. Tregul alights my bed and takes his usual spot at my feet, no longer trying to tell me something.

As I drift off to sleep, all I can imagine is Loki. Behind my closed eyes, the image of his smile follows me into my dreams.


	6. Chapter 6

The doorbell rings and startles me to consciousness. Mystic scrambles to his feet, back arched and fur bristled, while Tregul lifts his head wearily and flicks his tail in annoyance.

I curse and sit up out of bed, pulling my robe on while I stumble downstairs. I yank open the front door, blinking blindly in the sunlight and rubbing my eyes into focus.

"Hey, Avery…"

I stop rubbing my eyes and attempt to get over the brightness to see Ruby. "What are you doing here?" I ask bitterly.

"I wanted to apologize about last night. I was drunk and jealous because Loki was giving you more attention than me."

I lean against the door from, finally able to see Ruby. She's wearing the same clothes from last night, her makeup smeared, her hair frizzy and sticking up in strange places. She hasn't been home all night. "What happened to you?"

She looks down at the concrete porch and chews her lips. "I went home with some guy last night…"

"What was his name?"

"Andy? Alex? Hell, I don't know."

"And yet I'm the whore? At least I know the names of all my clients."

Ruby stares at me in disbelief. "I call bullshit. You do not."

I arch an eyebrow. "Michael, Josh, Chris, David, another Chris, Peter, Steve, Juan, Jamel, Tom, and Mark. Come. At. Me. Bro.

"How the hell do you remember that?"

I shrug. "It's kind of a buzz kill when you say someone else's name right in the middle."

Ruby closes her eyes and shakes her head. "Stop. Too much info. I get you."

I smirk smugly and cross my arms over my chest. "Anyway, it wasn't my fault that Loki was interested in me, so why'd you blow up on me and call me a bitch?"

"I told you, I was drunk. I say stupid things when I'm drunk."

"Yeah, no shit."

"Avery, I'm trying to fix things, but you're making it difficult."

I try to fight my smile back, but it breaks through anyway. "I'm totally kidding. I'm not even mad."

Ruby smiles. "I fucking knew it. You asshole."

"All day, er'ryday." I step to the side and gesture into the house. "Care to come in? I'll cook you breakfast."

"Tempting, but I should probably get home. I feel like I need a shower. What are you doing tonight?"

"Um… I've got a date."

Ruby smiles slyly. "Promise you'll tell me all about it later?"

"Of course, Rue. I'll see you around."

"Later, Avery."

Ruby turns to leave, and I close the door, the shadow of a smile upon my face.

Talking about the date has, of course, made me think about Loki again. I should probably do a little research on him… Make sure he's not some psycho or anything. I mean, what guy goes to a club in a suit? Definitely can't hurt to do a bit of a background check.

I head back upstairs and through the first door on the right, my office. My office that I never really use… But an office nonetheless. I open and boot up the laptop that sits on top of the desk. Once I'm logged in, I pull up Google. I may not find a whole lot of info here, but hey, at least I tried. I sit down at my desk, fingers on keys, ready to go, and begin typing.

Loki… Loki… Shit, Loki what? How did I manage to go the entire night without figuring out his last name? Geez, I can be dumb sometimes.

Since I don't know his last name, I add Las Vegas after his name in the hopes that it will narrow down the search.

The search results do nothing to help me. Most of the links are to Norse mythology sites that I'm not sure have anything to do with my search. But considering I can't find anything on Loki, I click on the first link out of curiosity.

I scan the article that pops up absentmindedly. Asgard… Odin… Frigga… Thor… Heilmdell… Freya… Loki… Volstagg…

Wait, what?

I scroll back up some. Sure enough, the name "Loki" captions a section of the page. It's accompanied by a cartoon drawing of a scrawny man with black hair dressed in a weird, green uniform with a golden, horned helmet. He's hunched over, hands close together, a sly, knowing smile on his lips. His face linear and sharp, his eyes black. Aside from the eyes and clothes, it's almost a perfect caricature of Loki.

I sit back in my chair, brow furrowed, and chew my lip. So he's crazy. He has to be. He dyed his hair and changed his name to match the god. I wouldn't be surprised if he had this costume in his closet. God, why do the weird ones always find me?

Wait a minute. If he wanted to be this guy, why wouldn't he go all the way and buy black contacts? And Loki's not _that_ similar to the picture. Maybe his parents had a thing for Norse mythology. I need to chill out about this. I'm overreacting. Besides, who gives a fuck about his obsessions? He's a great guy.

Out of boredom, I read the passage on the god of mischief. Frost giant. Son of Odin. Brother of Thor. Father of… a wolf, a half-dead woman, a snake, and… Wait, _mother_ of an eight-legged horse? Norse mythology's weird as fuck. The trickster, shape-shifter, part-time lover of the Valkyrie, Freya. Loki the god sounds fun, but I like my Loki. A gentleman is _always_ better than a trickster. Besides, there's always the fact that my Loki's real unlike the other.

I smile. _My_ Loki. I love the sound of that…

A few articles later on Norse mythology, and I'm completely intrigued. The stories of the princes of Asgard make me giggle. The Warriors Three – Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun – impress me. The Bifrost makes me curious. Freya makes me… Weird.

I don't know why she does. There's just something about her that seems… I don't know, familiar? Other than the fact that one of the cats that pulls her chariot is named Tregul, there's no similarity to anything I know. I shrug it off. Who knows? Maybe I heard about her once, and I just can't pinpoint when I heard it.

When I've sufficiently killed time, I get up and start getting ready for the date. I wish I knew where we're going exactly so I knew what to wear, but since I don't… What am I going to wear?


	7. Chapter 7

Clothes fly out of my closet while I search for something semi-nice. Jeans are too laid back. Dress pants are too office-y. My skirts are all _way_ too short. Shorts… Aren't even in the equation. So that leaves a dress. But what kind of dress? I don't have a whole lot, and most of the ones I _do_ own are formal-formal, not semi-formal.

Overall, I have two dresses I could wear, and they're almost exactly the same. Both are strapless, black top, empire waist, and hit about mid-thigh. The differences come in the skirts. One's black and white and geometric. The other's black with big reddish-purple flowers. Of the two, flowers is probably the way to go.

I check the clock on my bedside table. 5:58. I literally spent almost four hours just looking at Norse mythology. What nerdiness is this? And now I have an hour to shower, get dressed, and do my hair and makeup. Fucking fantastic.

I rush through everything and finally spray the last curl and pin it back with five minutes to spare. Done. Finally done.

Mystic ambles into my room and hops onto the vanity. He gives me a pathetic look and makes the quietest of meows.

Strike that. One more thing. Feed the cats.

I take Mystic in my arms and carry him back downstairs in a rush. Tregul rises from his spot on the couch and follows me into the kitchen.

I practically throw Mystic down when I get in the kitchen and grab the cats' bowls hastily. The stove clock read 6:57. _Fuck, fuck, fuck_. The refrigerator is thrown open at my hand and two cans of wet cat food withdrawn. Thirty seconds later, Tregul and Mystic happily enjoy their dinner, and the doorbell rings. Perfect timing.

When I open the front door, Loki's standing right in front of me. He's traded in his over the top suit for something a tad bit more casual. Black pants (still yet), nice deep yellow polo, black shoes, and his ever present cane with the blue light. His eyes sparkle and his smile's kind when he sees me. I return his look and wrap my arms around his neck. "Hi," I greet.

"Hello, darling," he returns as he leans his cane against the wall and places his hands on my waist, a kiss following his words. "You look lovely."

I look away bashfully for a split second before meeting his gaze against. "Where are we going?"

"In time, Avery. We still have a ride to wait for."

"A ride? How did you get here?"

"Taxi."

"Why don't we just take that?"

Loki smirks softly and brushes my hair back over my ear. "It's a surprise, my dear. Shall we go inside?"

My curiosity is off the charts, but I manage to calmly slide a hand from Loki's neck to his own hand and guide him inside. Mystic and Tregul stand in the doorway of the kitchen, licking their jowls, when Tregul's ears flick forward. His purrs grow so loud I can hear him from almost ten feet away. As Loki shuts the door behind us, Tregul stalks forward without inhibition. He immediately rubs his head against Loki's leg and closes his eyes happily. If cats could smile I feel like Tregul would be beaming right now. Loki laughs slightly and releases my hand to reach down and pick up the fur ball. "Well, hello there, Tregul," he says as he pulls the cat into the crook of his arm.

I cock my head just an inch. "How do you know his name?"

Something flashes across Loki's face that I don't quite catch before he composes his countenance. "It's on his tag, of course."

"Oh. Silly me. Had a blonde moment there."

Loki laughs and scratches Tregul behind the ears. "Happens to all of us."

I smile and join him in pampering Tregul. He purrs so hard that he's vibrating like a cell phone, and his sandpaper tongue rasps over Loki's fingers. "He really likes you," I tell Loki.

"I can tell."

"Feel special. He hates everyone except me."

"I am deeply honored, Tregul," Loki tells the cat before setting him down. He looks around the house before giving a nod of satisfaction. "Beautiful."

"Would you like the grand tour?"

"Absolutely." He offers his arm, and I loop mine with it.

We cover every bit of the house, and in every room Loki praises the house even more and at the very least kisses my cheek, but in the second level rooms he ups his game and kisses my lips. By the time I show him my room, my restraint is about at its end. Why does he have to be Goddamn attractive?

We finish back in the living room where we started, and I unlace my arm from Loki's to face him. His eyes wander down to my waist, and his hands follow suit. He pulls me close to him gently, holds my chin, and softly kisses me. My hands travel up his arms, over his shoulders, and around his neck. My eyes close. My body erases the gap between us and conforms to his. Then, with a sharp intake of breath, Loki wraps his arms entirely around my waist, and his kisses grow harsher. My heart beats like crazy as I hold the back of his head. One of his hands travels down to my thigh and pops it up slightly to brush against his. A new hunger I've never felt before claws inside of me. My movements become desperate. Loki's hand on my thigh pushes up the skirt of my dress. His lips break away from mine and bury in my neck, and he pulls my leg even higher to his hip. I dig my nails softly into his neck as my breathing becomes ragged. It's happening. And I'm not working. And I'm sober. I'm _actually_ enjoying this!

Loki drops my leg and takes a step or two back. His eyes are wide and frantic. "I'm – I'm terribly sorry. I don't know what came over me."

I match his steps and caress his cheek carefully. "No, don't apologize. That was…" I trail off.

"A mistake," Loki finishes quietly, taking my hand and removing it from his cheek.

"Well, I was going to say 'amazing' or 'too short', but okay," I mumble a little bitterly.

Loki's eyes grow ever wider, and he comes closer and pulls me back to him. "No, no, not you Avery. You're not the mistake made, dear. The timing was. It's too soon."

He's right. We only met last night. I need to keep reminding myself of that. I don't want to make a mistake that would ruin this. Maybe I'm taking this relationship too seriously too soon, but I really like Loki. I'm not fucking this one up.

I give a small smile and peck Loki's lips softly. "You're right," I whisper. "We'll hold off."

Loki grins and kisses me again. "Are you ready to go?"

"I thought we were waiting on the ride."

Loki lets go and goes to the front door, his hand on the handle. I follow him cautiously, unsure of what will follow. "He should be here by now," he says with a knowing smile as he opens the door.


	8. Chapter 8

I stick my head out the door and suddenly it's hard to breathe. A black carriage with green seats pulled by a black horse waits in front of my house. "Oh my God…" I mumble.

Hands slide over my shoulders and give a soft squeeze. "What do you think?"

"This is already the best first date I've been on."

Loki laughs, collects his cane, and leads me down to the carriage. "Glad I've made such an impression." He steadies me as I climb into the carriage and follows me into the seat. His arm goes around my shoulders and with a tap of his cane on the floor of the carriage, the driver snaps his reigns and we lurch forward.

We don't talk all that much during the ride, but it's not awkward. In fact, I like it. I feel so at ease with him here, in his arms, a gentle breeze and the rock of the carriage easing any worry. I've never been so relaxed on any date, let alone a first date. It's absolutely perfect.

The carriage pulls in front of one of my favorite restaurants, a simple place with a nice, artsy feel and a veranda on the roof that overlooks the small buildings in the area with a clear view of the skyscrapers only a mile or so away. From this height, the sunset is so clear as it sets behind mountains. It's a great place for a first date.

Loki doesn't even stop at the front to wait for a hostess to seat us, but instead heads straight up the stairs to the roof. The setup is different than usual. Where there are usually bistro tables and chairs, a blanket with pillows lies across the slate stones facing that sunset I love so much. My breath catches in my chest, and my mouth pops open just slightly.

Loki takes a few steps toward the arrangement, but stops and turns back when I don't follow. He smirks at my expression, silhouetted against the orange of the son. He comes back, takes my hand, and gently guides me to the blanket. "It's not too much, is it?"

"No, not at all. It's… Amazing."

Loki gives an accomplished grin, takes my other hand in his, and carefully helps me sit without exposing myself. "I was hoping you'd think that way."

"How could I not? I mean, look at that," I say with an overall gesture to the view.

He sits close to me, his knee almost brushing mine, and reaches to the side of the blanket to a pail of ice I didn't notice before that chills a bottle of champagne. Next to the pail, two stemmed glasses await which Loki also takes. He pops the bottle open and fills each glass with the light gold liquid and hands one to me. We clink the glasses together in a small toast before each taking a sip. As I set my glass to the side, I can't help but giggle in my current situation.

"What's so funny?" Loki asks playfully.

"Nothing, it's just… I don't know, this feels more like anniversary date than a first date."

"Is that a bad think?"

"No, not at all."

"Good. Besides," Loki continues, reclining back on the pillows, "if you want to get technical, this _is_ an anniversary date."

I lay back next to him, slightly confused. "How do you mean?"

"Give it another hour or so and it will be the one day anniversary of when we met."

I roll my eyes and giggle slightly. "You dork."

"Now, I'm serious."

"Oh, I'm sure."

He lolls his head over to look at me, and as usual those blue eyes shut me up. And judging by the look on his face he knows the trick.

"You're cheating," I mumble.

"How?"

"You know how. Those eyes of yours."

"It's not cheating if it's something you're born with."

"No, but it's cheating if you manipulate what you were born with into a weapon."

Loki smiles thinly, as if he's fighting. "Fair enough."

A waitress comes up and takes our order. As romantic as this spot is, the food doesn't really match it. If you want to get technical, it's a pizza joint. But when the Buffalo Chicken Pizza that neither Loki nor I has tried arrives, we make it work. Pizza and champagne, watching the sunset on top of the roof of a building that a horse drawn carriage brought us to. How in the world did Loki think of and prepare all this in one day?

The sun dips down behind the horizon completely, leaving only a fading color of orange, red, yellow, and pink. The remaining slices of pizza go untouched, and the champagne lays aside, drained, but I really don't want to go just yet. Loki's set aside our glasses and put his arm around me as we lay back, and I feel so at home. Everything feels so right and easy, like breathing.

"Tell me more about you," Loki mumbles quietly.

"Well, there's not really a whole lot to say. I work, I come home, I sleep, I play with the cats, and I hang out with Ruby."

"How are you and Ruby now?"

"We're okay. She came over and apologized."

"That's good. So what about your family?"

Dammit… "Long story."

"There's still a little sunlight. We have time."

I chew the corner of my bottom lip and sigh. "Alright…"

It's grown dark by the time I finish talking, and Loki seems a little stunned and confused as he stares into space. Although he looked that way from the moment I mentioned how Mom left me. He's so quiet. It was too soon to bring up my can of worms. "I'm sorry," I mutter.

"No, please. Don't apologize for there's nothing to apologize for when you simply answer my own question. I simply didn't expect that…"

"Most people don't."

He looks down at me, studies my face for a moment, and then kisses my forehead delicately. "Are you ready to go?"

I wrap my arm tightly around his middle and rest my head on his chest. "Uh-uh."

He puts his hand on my back and rubs. "I am not asking you to return to your home just yet, Avery. I've yet another stop planned for tonight."

I look up at him and kiss his chin softly. "Okay, let's go."

I roll off Loki's chest, and he stands up and helps me to my feet. We leave everything behind and walk straight out without a single hesitation. The carriage waits in front, and Loki helps me into it again.

The trip is shorter this time, and the driver stops in front of the city park. No one's here on a Sunday night except for a person here or there.

Once we're out of the carriage, Loki laces his fingers with mine tenderly and leads me down the sidewalk into the city forest.

The lights, gas lanterns that have been here since the park was built over a century ago, glow dimly. The sound of rushing water from the nearby stream babbles, and clusters of ducks with heads tucked under wing hide in the darkness. A gazebo with lights strung through the wrought iron posts glimmer in the distance. Loki leads me to it silently and pulls me up the stairs and onto the deck. He turns back to me, guides my right hand to his shoulder, adjusts his hold on my other hand, and slides his left hand to my waist. He begins humming a tune that I recognize but can't name and starts to lead me in a gentle waltz across the gazebo. Gradually, he slides his hand to my lower back and pulls me against him. Our eyes never move from the others, our feet match each other in step, and when Loki reaches the end of his tune, he takes my hand already in his, brings it to his lips, and softly plants a feather-light kiss on the back. I expect him to stand up straight and guide me elsewhere, but, after a split second's hesitation, he kisses my wrist, then up my forearm, my upper arm, and all the way to my shoulder, up my neck, and to my lips. It sounds cheesy, but I can't help but get the same feeling of want that I had back at the house. His eyes glimmer teasingly, and his face holds a smirk at what he knows is happening to me.

"Cheating…" I utter just below a whisper.

He holds my face with his open hand, runs a thumb over my lips, and kisses me again, still gently but with a bit more heat. He pulls away and rests his head against mine. "I could be worse," he hisses, and his accent sounds so incredibly sexy that it raises goose-bumps on my arms and down my back and makes me press my lips against his instinctually. He laughs against my lips and kisses me back, but pulls away just when I really, _really_ want more and walks me back to the path.

My hunger dies down substantially but doesn't disappear entirely no matter how much I fight it. I close my eyes, shake my head, and try to think of something to say. "So… What about your family."

Loki scoffs without a smile. "You don't want to know."

I stop, and when he feels my resistance he does, too. "Yes, I do."

"Avery, I know you care, but this is a whole, confusing, impossible mess." He takes my other hand gingerly. "I don't want to put you under unnecessary distress."

"Loki, it won't. I'm just curious. Please tell me."

He looks at the ground for a moment, considering my words, then looks back at me with a defeated yet compliant countenance. "Very well. Perhaps we should sit down."

"If you want to."

"It's probably for the best," Loki assures.

We settle at one of the benches scattered along the edge of the sidewalk, and Loki holds both my hands tentatively. "I come from a family of ro… Importance, and my father is the most noble man in the family. We have this palace of a house, and the majority of my friends and relatives live with us. I also have a brother that I am… I _was_ very close to."

"What happened between you two to make it 'was'?"

Loki hesitates again. "…My father… My father always favored him, and I discovered his reasoning not that long ago." He meets my gaze fleetingly, and in that split second I can feel every ounce of pain within him. "I'm adopted. I have no family. And it does not help that there was already a bit of a rivalry between Th… My brother and I to impress Father so one of us could take over as head of the family when the time came. My brother was chosen, but he was so arrogant and short-tempered that Father disowned him. Then Father fell ill, so I acquired control of the family. And then my brother came back and in essence beat me out of my place of power with Father in his restored health cheering him on," Loki spits out bitterly. "Therefore I left, and I am certain that it was the best decision I ever made and may possibly make again."

His grasp on my hands has slackened since he began getting angry. I cautiously lift a hand to Loki's cheek, and his eyes dart to me watchfully. "I think so, too," I croon calmly.

Loki softens a little and puts an arm around me tentatively. Bitterness melts away from his eyes, replaced with warm fondness. "I am so elated I met you, Avery."

"I'm so glad I met you, Loki."

He gives a half-smile and kisses my forehead with lightness of air. "Any further questions?"

I think about Loki's story, trying to pick up on anything I'm still curious about, and the more I think, the more I'm reminded about the mythology I read today. My stomach twists. Maybe I was right about him initially, that he is a weirdo. Oh, but what do I care? I should ask him something else about him, but I'm so curious…

"Did you have a special someone before you left?" I ask playfully.

Loki looks at the ground and smiles at a memory. "One."

"Was she pretty?"

"Now I am not answering that, my dear, for I fear that is a loaded question."

"I swear, I won't get like that. I'm honestly interested," I promise.

Loki searches for a tell on my face, but when he can't find one, he relaxes and smiles. "Yes, she was rather attractive."

"What was her name?"

"Fre… Uh…"

I watch him struggle for a it to formulate a name. This can't be fake. Could… Could it be possible that those stories were real?

"Freya?" I offer.

Loki's eyes widen, and he sharply looks at me. "How… How do you know about Freya?"

I lean back in the bench and rub my eyes. "I was going to try and do a background check on you because you seemed too good to be true, and I found a Norse mythology website that I checked out 'cause I was bored."

Loki doesn't say anything. He just keeps staring at me in bewilderment like I'm some rare creature. "Is it true?" I ask, feeling somewhat stupid for even doing so. "Are you really a… god, or not?"

Loki looks around the park fleetingly and takes my hand. "Follow me," he says as he pulls me off the bench. Like I really have a choice.

He leads me to a cluster of large bushes that conceal us from anyone who may pass, and I'm not going to lie, I'm a little nervous. He turns back to me with the look of a madman. "I am going to show you something, and when I do, please don't be alarmed."

"I won't," I mumble uneasily.

Loki takes a few steps back, inhales steadily, and lifts his cane slowly. As he lifts it, a golden light forms round his body. His clothes change to black leather, silver and gold metal, and green fabric. A helmet made of the same golden metal curled into horns appears around his head, and his cane elongates entirely into a staff with a carb claw-like fixture on the end with a blue light.

At some point during the transformation, I must have stopped breathing because now I'm seeing spots, and I'm incredibly light-headed. And my knees are buckling. Oh, and now I'm falling.

* * *

I wake up in the carriage again, my head on Loki's shoulder as it was before. He seems tense under my head, and I'm worried I may have reacted too severely.

His hand rests on his knee, and I slide my own underneath it to hold his. He hardly even recognizes it from what I can tell. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright."

The way he says it makes me this he's _just_ saying it. I don't he's mad, per se, but maybe disappointed. "I was just overwhelmed about the whole transformation thing."

"I know. It really is okay, Avery."

I lift my head to look at him and kiss his chin apologetically. "You know I don't care, right?"

Loki turns his gaze on me, a little surprised. "Are you certain, darling? I would understand completely if it frightens you."

"No, you didn't scare me," I comfort, sitting up. "Just shocked me a tad bit. You could never scare me."

The carriage comes to a halt, and it's just now that I realize where we are. Smack dab in front of my house. I sigh disappointedly and wait for Loki to get out, help me down, and say goodnight to me at the door.

He doesn't though. Instead, he remains seated, staring at nothing in particular. The driver notices and steps down from his seat to help me out. I don't leave though. Not yet. "Loki," I whisper.

His eyes focus and turn to me. "I'm sorry," he mutters and dismisses the driver – who I just notice has crazy bright blue eyes – back to his spot. I take Loki's hand and gently descend, but it doesn't feel the same as it did before.

We walk silently to the door, his hand on my lower back pushing me along. At the door, under the yellow glow of my porch light, he kisses me again, softly like the others but lacking emotion. "I want to see you again soon," he flatly states.

"Okay… Tomorrow?"

"If that's what you wish. What is it you desire to do?"

I think about it for a moment, and then smile half-heartedly. "Just come over. We'll hang out."

"Are you sure?"

I nod, taking his hands in mine.

"Well what time shall I arrive?"

I shrug. "Whenever you want."

The corner of his mouth curls up. "I'll see you tomorrow then, darling." He leans in and gives me one last peck on the lips. "Goodnight, Avery."

"Goodnight, Loki."


	9. Chapter 9

Smoke fills the kitchen as the vegetables I attempted to sauté burn. "Shit…" I curse under my breath.

"You're sure you want to do this?" Loki asks from his spot leaning against the counter. His face is smug because I told him to let me handle everything even though he offered to help multiple times.

"Shut up," I throw at him while I move the vegetables to a cool burner. I wipe my forehead, sigh, and reach for my glass of wine next to Loki.

"The steaks, are they done yet?" Loki inquires.

I let my hand fall and groan as I head outside to the grill. The meat's completely black. Every bit of fight I had to make this dinner work drains out of me. "Fuck it. I give up," I grumble exasperatedly as I take the steaks off, bring them inside, and dump them.

Loki steps behind me and rubs my neck. "It was a nice thought, darling, but perhaps we ought to-"

"I'm calling Domino's."

Loki laughs and wraps his arms tightly around my shoulders. "You read my mind."

Thirty minutes later, Loki and I sit on the couch, cuddled against one another, slices of pizza in hand and a box on the coffee table that Mystic eyes hungrily. We have _Phantom of the Opera_ playing, but I'm not really watching it. I'm too busy thinking. It's about time I told Loki everything about me…

I grab the DVD remote and pause the movie. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Loki tilt his head over to look at me. He rubs his hand up and down my upper arm and pulls me into his side a bit more. "What's wrong, darling?"

I sweep my feet up to my right side and sit up a little. "I need to tell you something."

Loki runs his fingers through the roots of my hair down the tips. His eyes, half-closed, softly look at me with warmth yet with a tinge of concern. "What is it?"

I can do this. I can do this. "I…"

Shit, I can't do this.

Yes I can, dammit. And I'm going to do it. Just blurt it out. Get it over with. A nnnddd GO.

…

And go!

…

Fuck! Go!

"I'm an escort!" I say with _way_ more heat than I intended.

Loki tries to keep his reaction minimal, but for a split second his shock is clear as day. "Well I must say I most undeniably was not expecting that."

I let my head fall into my hands, ashamed. "I should have told you Saturday. I shouldn't have led you on. God, I'm such a whore."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Loki halts. He grabs my wrists firmly but carefully and moves my hands from my eyes. "You're not a whore."

"Are you kidding? I'm the text book definition of a whore."

"Not to me. To me a whore isn't just a person who sleeps with multiple people. It's how a person acts as well. If you acted in any way, shape, or form like a harlot, I wouldn't be here, but you act like a sweet, loving woman. I don't care about your occupation," he comforts as he guides me into a reassuring hug. "I care about you."

I'm silent momentarily, unsure of whether to believe Loki or not. "You really don't care that I sleep with guys for money?"

"Well… I'm certainly not fond of the idea, but I care about you for you, and that's not going to change based upon a profession you began before I met you. You are worth too much to me to get upset over your work."

I smile softly and slide an arm around his midsection, my head on his chest. "I wish there were more guys like you."

"You're not thinking about finding a man over me, are you?" Loki asks playfully.

"Not at all, but every girl could use a guy like you."

"No, a _god_ like me."

"Oh, hush.

I start the movie up again, picking up at my favorite song, "All I Ask of You". In time, my eyes grow heavy, and between the beautiful voices flowing over the speakers and Loki's fingers weaving and sliding through the tendrils of my hair, I'm lured into a quiet, peaceful sleep in the arms of someone I like so much. No, the arms of someone I possibly love.

* * *

I awake to complete darkness and find myself enveloped in the blankets of my bed, still fully clothed. How did I get here? And where's Loki? The digital clock glows a red 2:23 in the dark, and Mystic shifts above my head when I move, but Tregul isn't at the foot of the bed like usual. There's singing downstairs. Actually, it sounds like "Masquerade". I throw the covers off and head downstairs.

Alternating lights from the TV reflect on the glossy paint as the music changes to the Phantom's solo. Lying on the couch, sprawled out with an arm thrown over his head, likes Loki. Tregul lies in a tight curl on the back of the couch, nose under tail.

There's just enough room left on the couch for me to sit partially, so I do. "Loki," I call softly as I brush his hair back from his face. He stirs lightly, and his eyes flutter open sleepily. He smiles lazily and holds the back of my head.

"Hello darling. Something troubling you?"

"No, I was just wondering if you were still here."

"Here I am."

I giggle a little. "Here you are."

We say nothing for a while, just sit there looking at each other, playing with the other's hair. Loki gets a look on his face, like he's battling with himself about something. He opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. He moves onto his side to make room for me to lie down with him. My hands go to his chest, his around to my back. "Did you want to say something?"

"Yes, but part of me fears your reaction to what I have to tell you..."

The other Avery starts to take over me, pressing closer to Loki ever so subtly, affectionately pecking his lips. "Was it something along the lines of an emotion?"

"Possibly…"

"A serious emotion?"

"Perhaps."

The corner of my lip pulls up ever so slightly. "I think I understand." I hold the back of his head and kiss him deeply. He seems a tad unsure to begin with, but then he tightens his hold on me even more. Our legs end up entwined, our kisses more forceful. There's no stopping this time. We both know that. His hand, once on my back, now pushes my shirt over my ribs, his fingertips brushing with the lightness of a feather across my skin. His lips move to my neck, and I can't help but shakily moan. "Upstairs," I force out.

Loki stands up quickly, pushing me to my feet and taking my hand to drag me upstairs. The minute we're in my room, I fall on my back on the bed and pull Loki on top. I'm not sure who forced open whose mouth, but tongue is most _definitely_ being used. We break apart only to pull shirts off. The rest of our clothes come off without us having to pull away from our kisses. And then he's teasing me. So close, right there, on the very edge, and then he's gone, leaving me begging for more. "Loki, please," I whimper into his ear as he kisses and bites my neck.

"Back on the pillows," he growls into my skin.

I obey and let my head fall back on the pull, right on top of a now angry Mystic. "Wait, Loki," I tell him, my hands pushing against his chest.

"What now?"

"Mystic," I explain, my voice raising to a squeak as his fingers explore.

"Hurry up," he demands as he rolls off of me.

I sit up, grab Mystic from my pillow, and toss him out the door, shutting it harder than I probably should. Then Loki's turning me around and pinning me against the door.


	10. Chapter 10

**A.N. Hey guys! Sorry it's been a while. I'm in Orlando with my family, and I've been flying all over Disney World like a mad woman (by the way, in Epcot, there was no mythology in Norway, so no Loki. What's the point of even having a Norway then?) Anyway, here's an update to hold you guys over while I catch myself up. And sorry for the cliffhanger. I won't leave you guys hanging like that next time. ;)**

When I wake up again, bright yellow light filters through my window, casting small shadows across my room. The digital clock simply glows 10:15. Loki's arm lies circled around me as I lay on my side. His breathing is slow and even. He's still asleep.

My lips feel swollen and sore, and my hips hurt when I try to move. I try to turn around to face Loki without waking him, but my body is so covered in bruises that any way I lay there are three or four spots that hurt. My lips tightly press into a line to keep any noise of pain drowned.

It doesn't work.

Of all things, I make the tiniest squeak of pain and Loki wakes up. Of course.

He smiles and kisses my sore lips. "Good morning, my dear."

"Morning," I respond as I snuggle against him, ignoring any touched bruises.

"Are you feeling well?"

"Well," I begin, examining the little dark spots on my body under the covers, "you did a bit of a number on me."

Loki's eyebrows furrow in concern and confusion. "How do you mean?"

I throw the covers off, revealing dozens of purple, green, and black circles. "Oh, Avery…" Loki whispers, hand hovering over the marks cautiously. "I'm so inexorably sorry."

"Don't be sorry. It's okay. I probably enjoyed it last night anyway."

"Are you sure?" he asks in the meekest voice possible and with sad, puppy dog eyes.

"Absolutely." I caress Loki's cheek and kiss him lovingly. "I love you."

Loki puts on the biggest smile possible. "I love you, too, Avery."

We spend an hour or so lying down, wrapped in each other's arms, simply talking about nothing of real importance. That is until Mystic starts mewling pathetically at the door. I sigh. "I guess I better get up and feed Mystic."

"I'll begin breakfast," Loki offers.

We get out of bed, watching each other, really studying our bodies. Loki didn't exactly escape unscathed either. His neck is covered in red circles, and his back is raked with rows of red scratches, but his body looks so good. His eyes scan mine just like mine scan his, resting on curious or pleasing parts for a moment or two longer and continuing down. "I wish I had taken my time last night instead of just ravaging you."

"Oh please, don't complain," I tell him as I pull on a pair of sweats and a shirt. "Last night was amazing."

"I recognize that, but if I had slowed down I would have been able to look at the delicious curve of your body more," he points out while he pulls a shirt over his head.

I come around the bed and fold myself into him. "Well, remember what you wanted to do and next time we'll do it."

He arches an eyebrow slyly and pulls me in even closer. "There will be a next time?"

"Of course, baby," I assure huskily with a teasing smile.

"Baby, huh?"

"You don't like it?"

"No, I do."

"Good. Now, breakfast."

"Yes ma'am."

Twenty minutes later and I come to find out that not only Loki incredibly gorgeous, a perfect gentleman, _and_ good in bed, but he can cook, too. I don't know how he managed to do it so quickly, but he whipped up scrambled eggs, bacon, and French toast in no time flat. If I didn't know he was a god, I'd think I was dreaming.

I eat until I'm carrying eight month food baby twins and can't possibly force down another bite no matter how much I want to.

After breakfast, Loki has to go. He says he has business to take cares of, but he's very vague about what that business is. I don't press it though since he never pressed me about my work. As he reaches for the coat he discarded over the desk chair last night, his eyes glance over my mother and father's picture. Then he double takes. His face morphs to one of bewilderment, his mouth popped open and eyebrows raised ever so slightly. "Avery, who is this?" He points to my mother.

"Mom," I explain bitterly. "Pretty, huh?"

"What was her name?"

"Bella. Why do you ask?"

"She looks like…" he trails off, eyes still transfixed on Mom.

"Like who? Like someone from Asgard?"

Loki nods absentmindedly. "Freya."

My eyebrows fuse together, and I study the picture closer than before, but no matter how hard I look she doesn't seem like a Valkyrie. But then again, Loki doesn't exactly seem like a god, either.

That would explain why Tregul has that name and why he's lived so long. And if she was forced to return to Asgard, that would explain the abandonment, but I still just can't wrap my head around that possibility. "Do… Do you think it's her?"

"How long ago did your parents leave you?"

"About twenty years ago."

"Freya did leave for quite a while around that time. I suppose she could have had a child." He sounds somewhat disappointed, but I'm not sure why.

"Is that even possible? I mean, do the parts fit?"

Loki gives me a "Really?" look. "Avery, what did we do last night? Oh, my Yggdrasil," he says to himself, suddenly talking as if he's just realizing what he did, his hand holding his head, "what did we do last night…?"

It hits me. Hard. I feel sick to my stomach. "We… And you… With her…"

"I know! I know!"

"Ugh!" I gag out clenching my chest. "I can't believe I slept with someone who slept with my mom!"

"Just be silent! I'm not exactly enthralled with the thought either!"

I collapse on the couch, elbows on knees and head in hands. "I'm so grossed out right now."

"Oh, thanks!"

"Shut up, you know that's not what I meant!"

Loki stops the pacing he had taken up, his back to me, and lifts his head up slowly with a sigh. "I should have known."

"Now what do we do?"

Loki faces me, his expression unsure, but then he relaxes. "Nothing. What can we do?" He's calmed down substantially, and he takes a seat next to me, his arm looped around me shoulders. "I care about you, and you care about me, correct?"

"Of course."

"Then what does it matter? What happened between Freya and I occurred decades before you were even thought of."

I try to ignore the new question of just how much older Loki is than me and instead pick the relevant question. "Did you two love each other…?"

Loki hesitates and bites the bottom corner of his lip. "Not… Really. Things work differently in Asgard than they do in Midgard. Love is more of an action than a feeling."

"How do you mean?"

Again, Loki hesitates. "Let me put it this way, and please don't think I'm being rude, but you come by your sexuality quite honestly. Your mother is the goddess of love. Everyone in Asgard at one point or another has wanted Freya, and she's very… Giving."

"So my mom's a whore."

"No. I told you things are different in Asgard. She honestly loves practically everyone, and having multiple lovers is acceptable, although I don't really approve of how many she has."

I smile teasingly and mutter," Jealous?" with a nudge.

"Hypocritical is a better word."

"Oh really?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow in the process. "And how many lovers have _you_ had?"

"_Any_way, my point is that we shouldn't worry about it. It's all in the past. The question is, will we let it affect the present?"

A small, thoughtful smile appears on my lips, and I shake my head softly. "Never."

Loki's thin lips spread into a grin, and he takes my hand and pulls it close to his chest. "Good. You've done something me in these past few days that no one has been able to do in hundreds and hundreds of years. I've never cared for someone as much as I do about you now." He pulls me in closer, his other hand now around my waist. "When the time approaches, I want you to come to your true home, back to Asgard, where a demi-goddess belongs. With your people, with your mother, with me."

I bite my lip mischievously. "No more lovers?"

Loki smirks. "No more lovers. You and I, together, my princess, my one and only, my love."

I can literally feel my heart swell with happiness. "That sounds so amazingly, wonderfully, spectacularly perfect."

"I take that as you'll return with me?"

"At your word, I will be ready."

Loki pecks my lips delicately. "That's my princess." He kisses me again, and his love is so sweet that I dare not pull away first. He doesn't seem to want to break apart, either. In fact, it's a solid two minutes before he slowly – maybe even reluctantly – pulls back. He closes his eyes and sighs through his nose, and when he opens them again, he seems as if he's in pain. "I have to go, darling."

"I know. Hurry back."

"I'll be counting the minutes until I have you back in my arms. I love you."

I lean in and kiss him once more. "I love you, too."

"Farewell, darling."

"Goodbye, baby."


	11. Chapter 11

"What about this?" Ruby asks, picking up a charcoal cashmere sweater with gold-yellow diamonds. "Think Dad would like it?"

I shrug. "I don't know. I guess so."

Ruby considers it for a second before setting it aside. "I'll keep it in mind. Let's head to another store."

"Alright." I let Ruby lead the way out back into the bustling crowd of people in the mall working on Christmas shopping.

It's been roughly two months since Loki and I met. Obviously, I'm back at work, and Loki's always busy during the day, so we hardly really see each other. I'm okay though. The times when we do see each other are so fantastic that they hold me over until the next time. We're always together for bug things though. He helped me carve pumpkins for Halloween, although he just wanted to use magic to do it, and he didn't really get the point of "cutting a vegetable up and sticking it on the porch with a candle just so it can rot in a few days." He handed out candy to trick-or-treaters and later watched _Dawn of the Dead_ with me ("So Midgardians actually _pay_ to have the wits scared out of them? Odd."). He watched the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade with me in person ("It's colder than Jotunheim out here!") and ate Thanksgiving dinner with Ruby, her new boy toy, and I ("It's a damn good thing Volstagg isn't here…"). He even helped me decorate for Christmas, although he finds the actual meaning trivial ("You're in love with a god, yet you worship this deity? You can be rather strange, my dear."). For obvious reasons, we're not going to church. Loki's whole-heartedly infatuated with the commercialism though. I don't know how many gallons of eggnog and hot chocolate he's made or how many times I've watched _A Christmas Story_. He's learned which radio station carries Christmas music, and now every time we're in my car, he switches over to it and doesn't let me even mess with the volume. Then he belts out "Jingle Bell Rock" and "White Christmas" at the top of his lungs. At least he's not a bad singer.

Ruby's moved on. She's settled on a boy for the moment named Will. I don't know how I feel about him exactly, and Loki flat out hates him. I blame that on a clash of the egos. I haven't told her about Loki's origins for obvious reasons, and she thankfully doesn't ask.

The lighted Christmas displays in the store windows raises a question I've tried to ignore time and again. Just what exactly do I get the god of mischief and prince of Asgard? A cd? An iPod? Clothes? All of them just sound stupid. Sure, Loki would be happy to receive them on the outside, but on the inside I'm sure he'd be having a serious "What the fuck?" moment.

I try to think about what he likes, but I honestly haven't much of a clue. He doesn't seem too into material things. I know he likes to be in charge, he likes pranking people (he's done it _multiple_ times to Ruby), and he likes… Well, me.

Wait… He likes me. There's an idea. And if he likes to be in control, then I can definitely make that happen. I just need to gather the supplies… "Can we head into Spencer's?" I ask aloud to Ruby.

"Sure. Maybe I can find something for my brother there."

Perfect.


	12. Chapter 12

"Avery, darling," Loki calls softly into my ear, "wake up. It's almost 10:00. You're going to sleep away Christmas."

I groan and pull a pillow over my head. "You remind me of those little siblings that wake up the entire house 'cause they want to open their presents."

"Come on, Robby. Wake up!" Loki shouts, pushing me and whining like the kid brother from _A Christmas Story_.

"So. Saw. That. Coming. Alright, alright. I'm getting up," I say with a grunt as I push myself up.

Loki stands in the doorway and acts like my personal cheerleader, shouting words of "encouragement" as I get out of bed, slide into slippers, and wrap a robe around. I half expect him to go skipping down the landing and down the stairs, but he stays at my side and makes me lace my arm with his, guiding me down the stairs softer than the falling snow outside.

My breath is literally taken away when we reach the living room. Loki did some serious redecorating. The skinny fake tree that was in the corner has been replaced with a tall, full, _real_ fir tree with bright colored LED lights, golden balls, little characters, and red bows trimmed in gold. A shining gold star tops the tree, shimmering enough to cast its own cheery glow around the room. Loki's cast some spell that makes it snow inside though it isn't cold when I reach out for it, and although it accumulates on the floor, it doesn't seem messy. The smell of warm cinnamon buns, ham, and sweet, rich hot chocolate wafts from the kitchen. A bright fire throws warmth throughout the room, something inside sending festive red and green sparkles through the flames. _It's A Wonderful Life_ plays on the TV, and a stack of other holiday movies stands to the side of the DVD player. Beautifully wrapped gifts spill out from under the tree: red wrapping paper with green, gold, and white ribbon; green wrapping paper with silver bows; paper with a classic Santa printed on it in varying forms.

The beauty of it all almost makes me lose control and start crying, but I manage to keep control. I can feel Loki watching me, can feel the happiness he sends my way. "What do you think, Avery?"

"I've never seen anything so… Perfect." I finally return his gaze and tighten the hold on his arm. "When did you do all of this?"

"After you fell asleep. I came back down here and did all of this. I wanted to make this Christmas special."

"You already did just by being with me," I comment just before kissing him.

"Merry Christmas, my princess."

"Merry Christmas, my prince."

Loki guides me through the soft snow to the couch and hands me the first present, a small, thin, rectangular box that contains a silver bracelet with the blue gems that pulsate just like Loki's scepter. Then I hand Loki his first, a blanket of mine he's slept with almost every night he's spent with me. He hands me another, a black silk nightgown that looks both cute and sexy. Loki's next, a silver necklace with Celtic knots etched in the wide chains.

The gift giving goes on like that, switching back and forth between the two of us. Now we each have expensive clothes, sentimental trinkets, and odd gag gifts. We each have one left.

Loki hands me my last gift with such care that I'm afraid to actually open it. "I saved the best for last," he tells me in a low, serious tone before heading to the kitchen to fetch us hot chocolate. The wrapping paper is even so beautiful – silver with blue snowflakes that seem to twirl and float like they were really falling – that it takes more than you'd think to actually bring myself to rip it. Beneath the paper, a shallow pinstriped box sits, and below the lid, something wrapped just so in white tissue paper. A note sits atop it that I withdraw and read:

_My most beautiful Avery,_

_I had more difficulty deciding on what to get the future queen of Asgard than you might think, but then it hit me. This is the only thing fitting for a woman like you._

_I love you my princess,_

_Loki_

Uncertain, I set the note aside slowly, pull back the white paper, and subsequently stop breathing.

Loki returns with two mugs of the sweet brown liquid in hand and smirks at my stunned state. "Do you like it, darling?"

"I… I've never seen anything so beautiful," I force out. "It's too much. I can't accept this."

"Nonsense," Loki waves off and sets the mugs aside. "I told you, it's the only thing fitting a queen."

"Loki…"

He sits beside me, pulls out the silver tiara that twists into intricate curls and knots and encrusted with emeralds and topazes, and places it on my head. He withdraws, and the light from the fire strikes the gems, casting sparkling fairies of green and gold across the blanket of snow. A sense of nobility, of entitlement, of power washes over me, and I truly feel like royalty. I turn to Loki, a cocky, expectant grin on my face. "How do I look?"

Loki's mouth has popped open, and his speechlessness leaves me unsure of whether he's dumbfounded or hesitant. "You look like the true queen of Asgard…" he whispers, measuring the weight of each syllable as if he's just realizing their impact. I'm silent, blushing sheepishly smiling, as Loki looks on. He shakes his head and stands up, dropping his gaze from mine to the snow. "I have to go."

I rise sharply, taking my tiara off in the process. "What? Why?"

"Business."

"Loki, it's Christmas."

"Business doesn't take a break for Christmas," he numbly responds, gathering his things.

"Uh, I don't know if you've noticed, but around her most business _do_ take a break for Christmas," I spit out, stepping into Loki's path and grabbing his upper arms. "Don't go. Not yet."

"Avery-"

"Please. You have one more present left anyway. I'm begging you," I say in a dropped tone, lightening my hold on his arms and sliding my hands across his chest. "Can you please stay?"

Loki finally meets my gaze, and any determination to leave he once had melts into muted admiration. His chest rises and falls under my hands as he sighs, and his hands gently caress my lower back. "I'll stay for you, Avery."

I don't even smile as I thank, kiss, and lead him back to the couch. Once seated, I hand him a rather long, thick rectangle of a box and anxiously watch him open it. He smiles with the implication of laughter and withdraws a riding crop. "I thought we were done with the gag gifts, darling."

"Who said that's a gag gift?"

He arches an eyebrow and brings back that mischievous little grin from when we first saw each other. "Oh really?" He puts his arm around me proudly and taps my nose with the crop. "Naughty girl."

"There's more."

Loki shifts through the box and pulls out a "preview" of what I intend to wear tonight: the lacey black thong Ruby practically forced me to buy from Victoria's Secret. "I most _definitely_ like where this is going."

"There's one more thing in there."

Loki digs in once more and reveals the silver handcuffs inside. "Who's wearing these?"

"Well," I begin while I push Loki's gifts aside and straddle him, "it's your present. That's up to you."

He looks over at the handcuffs and riding crop, looks back at me, and runs his finger up my arm to my neck and back down. "Well, I _would_ like to hear you scream," he growls seductively.

I giggle flirtatiously and bite my bottom lip. "I thought you'd say something like that," I comment breathlessly before tangling my fingers in his hair and kissing him deeply. His hands go down my back and grab my ass harshly. The kisses grow rougher and soon his tongue invades my mouth, sliding over and caressing mine. I can sense he's holding himself back, but I have a feeling that's primarily because he doesn't want me to know how much he's truly enjoying this. I can still feel the wanting touch and pulsing electricity pass between us, but since he seems to want to hold back, maybe I should just remove all temptation.

I pull my lips apart from Loki's slowly. "Guess we better go eat. The food will get cold."

He doesn't move his hands. In fact, he pulls me in even closer to him. "There's a spell on it to keep it warm."

"Mystic and Tregul need to be fed, too."

"They've been fed. Now hush."

I push against his chest and wiggle my hips back. "I don't think now is the time."

"Stop trying to escape, Avery," he commands dangerously, pulling me back against him.

"Loki, no."

His eyes flash malevolently, and he grips the long tendrils of my hair and pulls down. "No?" He casts me aside on the couch, the riding crop and handcuffs pressing into my back. Loki looms above me, a savage, mad look in his eyes and a playful though menacing smirk all for me. "You dare tell me no? You certainly are an audacious one, aren't you? But I make the rules here, I'm in charge, and you _will_ do as you are told. Understood?"

I remain defiantly silent and cast a challenging glare. "Try me," I spit out.

Loki sneers. "You're so damn precious when you try to act dominant, like you have any control whatsoever over even your own body." He falls on top of me and presses two fingers between my legs, and the sensation that follows is too much to hide. The smallest of pleasurable whimpers leaves my throat, and Loki chuckles condescendingly. "You think I don't know how your body reacts to my words? To my touch? Dear Avery, this body you live in, whether you know it or not, belongs to me. It is under my every command. This feeling here," he presses against me again and elicits yet another whimper, "flaring deep inside you, urging you forward, making you beg for more, is because of me. You have _no_ control in any way, shape, or form. Now, hold your tongue and do everything I say the very second the words leave my mouth."

"Yes sir."

"There's a good girl. Now just lie there and let me take my spot as your ruler, my pet." He presses his lips against mine, harsh and demanding in his venture. I want to wrap my arms around his neck, but I fear what he would do if I did. He settles between my legs and holds me at the hip with one hand, the other hand behind my neck caught in the softer strands of my hair. "Hold the back of my head," Loki finally orders, and I obey instantaneously. His tongue pushes back into my mouth, invading and exploring the space to a whole new level. Instinctively, I tighten my hold on him and moan, and Loki's hand on my hip trails the curve of my waist, over my rubs, and brushes the curve of my breast, sending shudders across my entire body.

Suddenly, Loki pulls back completely and reclines in the corner of the couch. "Undress for me, Avery. Slowly."

I hesitate only for a split second, but it's enough for Loki to pounce on me. "Don't you dare defy me, my harlot," he threatens evenly. "Undress. Now."

My stomach clenches with nerves and hunger while I stand and slowly remove my shirt and p.j. pants. Loki watches me darkly, his eyes tracing the gentle curves of my body devouring me already in his mind. He stands, grabs my waist, pulls me against him until I fit his shape, and buries his face in my neck. His lips and tongue lavish the little hollow my neck before his teeth replace them and tenderly bite me. My breath hitches in my chest, and on their own accord, my hands start pulling at his clothing in an attempt to remove it. "Avery…" Loki growls into my neck as a warning, but he doesn't continue or try to stop me. His mouth abandons its post only when I remove his shirt. My fingers brush down the valleys of Loki's muscles to the waist of his pants. Years at my job make this part fast and simple like breathing, and now not a single scrap of clothing lies between us. "You know what to do now, darling," Loki whispers into my ear before nipping the lobe.

I nod breathlessly and wrap my hand around him. He groans lightly into my ear and returns the favor to me with is fingers. Our free hands clench each other closer together, his quiet groans growing alongside my moans and cries. "Please, Loki," I beg. "Take me now."

"Silence," Loki hisses. "We do what I want when I want." He reasserts his dominance by keeping me there, standing in the snow, moving his fingers faster and pushing me right to the edge.

"Loki, please. I'm going to-"

"No, you're not because I say you're not. You're going to take everything I give you, build it all up, and release only when I say you may." He pulls away and forces me back to the couch, settling back between my hips and invading me in one fluid movement. I cry out shakily and lock my grip tightly around him. He creates a rapid, full rhythm and stick to it methodically. I bite my lip so hard I taste the slightest bit of metallic blood just so I can hold on, consequently holding back any little noise I might make.

Loki tightens the further he goes, guttural growls ripping from his mouth. "Now," he manages to say, "with me."

The release is greater than anything I've ever experienced before, leaving me shallow of breath and limbs shaking. Loki plants much lighter kisses on my neck. "Good girl," he sighs into my skin. "Is it not simpler to give into me, to submit to my rule, than to fight me on it?"

"Yes, my prince," I breathe into his ear.

He shifts off and relaxes next to me. He picks up the riding crop and watches it as he twirls between his thumb and forefinger. "Shame we didn't use this," he remarks while tapping the leather part on my thigh impishly.

"That's your fault. You had it right there."

"I know, I know," he concedes. He turns to me and brushes my hair back over my shoulder. "Come here," he says with open arms.

I say nothing, just scoot over slightly, sweep my legs to the side, and tilt into his grasp. His lips press into my hair lovingly, and my eyelids begin to droop. "Merry Christmas, Loki," I mumble as I begin to pass into sleep.

"Merry Christmas, Avery."


	13. Chapter 13

I wake up on the couch, clothed once again, and covered with a fuzzy throw. I stretch, rub my eyes, and sit up. "Loki," I call out drowsily, but there's no response. A note with my name written in Loki's handwriting rests against my tiara. I take it and roll onto my back as I unfold and begin to read:

"My princess,

I was needed for business suddenly I'm afraid. I know I promised to stay, but this was an emergency. I shall return to you soon, my dear.

-Loki"

"Dammit," I mutter under my breath and rub a hand over my face. I really wanted Loki to stay, but if it's an emergency I guess I'll let it slide. I push myself off the couch and look around. Something's not right. Something's missing, and I don't mean Loki.

Where the hell are the cats?

A weak mewl outside the front door reaches me, and my heart twists down in my stomach as I get up and rush to the front door and fling it open. Tregul dashes in, shaking snow from his… Sweater? Oh my God, Loki put a sweater on my cat. Tregul hisses and rubs against the wall in an attempt to work the sweater off until he gives up, looks at me in the most pitiful way imaginable, and mewls pleadingly. He stalks over to me and rubs against my legs in a bribe. "You want me to take that off, Tre-Tre?" He meows as if saying yes. "But you look so cute." He stops circling my legs and glares up at me, tail flicking in annoyance and a warning hiss on his muzzle. "Alright, alright. No need to give me your attitude." I reach down and pull the sweater off Tregul somewhat reluctantly since he actually did look pretty damn cute in it.

There's another, higher-pitched mewl behind me, and when I turn around, I'm met with a somehow smug looking Mystic. Tail and chin held high, he struts inside the house, showing off his little red kitten sweater with a green Christmas tree decorated in silver and gold. "See Tregul? Mystic likes _his_ sweater." Tregul simply lashes his tail in frustration and stalks off.

I giggle, but it's not long before the loneliness sets in. I can go on without Loki with me 24/7, but the stunning lack of even acquaintances to talk to about the most basic things hits me hard at times like these. I have four people I can talk to, two of which aren't _even_ people. And this fucking job… It may not seem it, but it puts a serious amount of strain on our relationship. Loki may say he doesn't care about a job I had before we met, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care that each night someone else is taking what's his. I'm getting really close to paying off the house, though. Just one more payment and then I can quit, but at this time, I can't. There's been one or two times where Loki's threatened to go to an appointment and make the "filthy Midgardian" regret ever even thinking about making love, or attempting to anyway, to me. "They don't know what they hold," he's told me in anger repeatedly. "They defile a gem of Asgard with their mortal lust. They defile _my_ gem of Asgard, and you let them."

He only ever says that when he's here, and those times are few and far between. Sure, the time together for the most part is amazing, and yeah, they hold me over, but "hold me over" isn't the same as "keep me satisfied." When I'm with him, everything – aside from a little bickering over my work – is so insanely amazing. We laugh, we kiss, we hug, we (he) prank(s) the other, we're happy. And then, in the time it takes a heart to beat, he's gone, and I'm left alone with my cats and a cold, lonely bed…

What does he even do when he's gone?

I kill time by messing with the Blu-Ray player Loki got me, and after a few exasperated curses, the front door opens. "Finally," I sigh, standing straight and turning to Loki. "I was beginning to… Worry…"

He looks, well, horrible really. Horrendous even. He limps slightly, though he tries to hide it. A deep gash across his forehead bleeds freely, streaming down his face and dripping from his chin. With each step he attempts to stifle a grunt of pain but to no avail. His eyes, trying their hardest to sparkle with mischief like usual, only appear dull and pain ridden. "What happened…?" I whisper, still frozen in front of the TV.

"Nothing darling."

"Don't you dare lie to me, Loki."

"Dearheart, it's nothing. Now come-"

"Loki."

He tries to take another step towards me, but he collapses to a knee. Frantically, I got to mine next to him. "Don't tell me you're okay. Don't do that to me. I'm not an idiot." He pushes up against my hands, defiant.

"You certainly are daring, speaking to your king like this." He comes to his feet, eyes flashing dangerously. "You forget your place, Avery. You may be my queen, but _I_ rule. You may be a demigoddess, but I _am_ a god, and you would do well to remember that _you_ are subservient to _me_."

"Oh please, don't get domineering right now," I throw back, standing up in annoyance. "You're hurt and no matter how high and might you think you are, you need me. Right now I'm in charge. Now let me help you."

He stares at me. He doesn't even blink. Why is he doing this? He's not impressing me, he's not acting manly, he's not acting smart. He's acting like a spoiled brat trying to prove himself worthy to be a man.

Oh my God, I'm an idiot.

I soften my stance, slide a hand to the back of Loki's neck, and hold his upper arm with the other. "I'm not Odin, Loki. You don't have to prove anything to me. You're already my king, and I will always be on your side." I rise on my toes, level with his eyes, forcing him to look at me. "I love you. Remember that."

It takes a second for Loki to acknowledge my words, but soon his eyes soften. He shifts his weight to his good leg and holds my waist. "You're right. I'm sorry."

I smile softly and, ignoring the blood, kiss his lips with the same tenderness, and when I take his hand and lead him to the couch, he follows without complaint.

Grandma was a nurse in the Korean War, and when she came back home, she continued down that path. That's how she met Grandpa. He was a doctor at the hospital she ended p working at. When I was younger, even when Mom and Dad were still with me, she taught me some of her passion, at least on the basics. The older I grew, the more in depth my lessons became. She taught me as far as how to temporarily set a broken bone and sew a few stitches for deep, though small, cuts. From that training it's not hard to tell that Loki has a twisted knee, sprained ankle, two bruised ribs, and needs three or four stitches on his forehead. Luckily, Grandma had enough medical supplies kept in the basement to open her own clinic if she wanted to.

Ten minutes later, Loki's stitched up, iced, and resting on his back on the couch with his right leg elevated. "You're going to have to stay here for a while," I warn him, carrying in a bowl of warm, soapy water and a clean washcloth from the kitchen.

"Dearheart, I can't do that. I have business to attend to."

Setting the water on the coffee table, I kneel at his side, dab the washcloth in the water and start cleaning the blood off his face. "What kind of business?"

"Darling, I can't tell you."

"Why not?" I snap, pulling the washcloth back. "You can tell me you're a god, that you slept with my mother, and that I'm a demigoddess, but you can't tell me what you're doing here? You're hiding something from me, and I have a right to know what that something is."

Loki rubs his hand over his face, careful of his forehead, and sighs. "I guess it is time to tell you everything, but promise me one thing." He takes my hands and pulls it close to him, just as he always does when he's about to tell me something important. "After I tell you the truth, promise me you won't look at me any differently. You know me in my truest form, but what I'm about to tell you does not sound like me. I still need you with me, by my side, forever."

Worry licks at my heart, but without missing a beat, I reply, "I promise."

"Very well. You know already how I left Asgard because of Thor and Odin, but I left through a rip in the universe caused by Thor destroying the Bifrost. I fell, past stars and worlds I had never seen before, and landed on an asteroid, ruled by a being known as Thanos. He controls an alien race known as the Chitauri and knows the power of this mighty object known as the Tesseract. During my time on the asteroid, he taught me of this power, enlightened me to the truth of the universe, of my place in it. The cube _did _lie in the human hands of S.H.I.E.L.D., though they didn't know the true power of it. From where I stood, we opened the door the Tesseract can create, and I came to earth. Now, I intend to rule it as king, with you by my side, the power of the Tesseract at our disposal."

I don't know how to respond. This sounds so completely and totally wrong, but no matter how bad it is, I can't go against Loki. Ever. "What will you do as king?"

He smirks, releases my hand, and throws my hair back over my shoulder. "Do you fear my rule, Avery? Do you worry for the mortals of this primitive realm so far below our stature? Well, my pet, you needn't frighten yourself so. I may be powerful, but I am just. I only mean to bring peace among the Midgardians, unite them all under a monarchy that rivals even that of Asgard, the likes of which no mortal man has ever seen. Fret not, my love, you and I will lead this realm fairly, and our subjects will devote to us every ounce of love and devotion they can muster." He places the palm of his hand against my cheek, and I let my head loll into his hold, sliding my own hand over his. "Does that appeal to you, dearest?"

I nod. "Yes, my lord."

His smirk widens into a warm, though small, grin, and his fingers slide from my cheek and thread into my hair. He studies my face, his eyes, the bluest I think I've ever seen them, sliding across my features. "You truly radiate the light of a goddess," he whispers, pulling his fingers through the long brown strands of my hair to the tips and then back again. "You were made to rule as a queen. If only I had you with me in Asgard when I was king."

I press a finger to his lips with a small "hush". "Don't think of that. I would love to have been with you in our true home, where I was meant to grow and become yours, but earth will have to suffice for now. At least until we can reach Asgard and take our thrones there."

"Now you're thinking as a queen should, always moving forward, looking for the next level of power. You're certain you have no qualms about ruling those you once thought yourself equal to?"

I scoot closer to the couch, peck Loki's lips, and nod. "With you helping me, reminding me that this is what's meant to happen, I can manage."

His grin finally grows full, and his fingers slide further back to hold my head entirely, guiding me into a deeper kiss, eyes closed, lips warm and soft. My hand slides across his chest, avoiding his hurt ribs, and to his neck, brushing the tips of my fingers across the tender skin there. It takes all I have to not bring up the handcuffs and crop I moved upstairs and remember that Loki's hurt and now's not the time.

His lips move down to my neck, brushing across as lightly as my fingers did. "Bed with me," he whispers into the hollow of my neck. "I need my queen tonight. I need to feel you, equal with me, writhing gently from the pleasure I bring you, feeling our lust merge and meld, warm and soft just like when we complete each other." His lips, planting feather light kisses up, rest at the shell of my ear, breathing hotly beside it. "Avery, I beg you. Don't deny me. Don't leave me in want of you through the night. I won't sleep until I have you once more."

I sigh, a moan of both want and frustration mingled within. "Darling, we can't. Not while you're hurt." I pull back reluctantly, met with the saddening disappointment in Loki's eyes. "I just don't want to harm you more."

Loki's gaze slides away from mine, focusing on his fingers as the thumb and forefinger twist the ends of my hair between. He sighs and presses his lip into an even thinner line. "I understand, though my heart, soul, and body ache for you to bring me over the edge." He glances up at me furtively, eyebrows just barely raised.

My lips curl up into a small, seductive smile before pressing against his once again, even softer than before; knowing the sweet feel only leaves Loki in hunger for more. "Are you implying something, my lord?" I inquire as I pull back a mere inch.

"Explore and you may find your answer."

My lips, brushing against his, part. "Tempting." My hand runs the length of his chest, across his midsection, and further down even more until I feel a firmness testing the strength of the fabric there. "You _were_ implying something."

"Take me," Loki begs in a voice I've never heard him use before, a high whisper that tugs at me heartstrings, appealing to my want to take care of him. "Please, Avery. I need your help."

I pull back and look where my hand cups, debating whether or not to give in even though generally the thought isn't appealing to me, yet with Loki it starts to sound better and better. I meet his gaze again, absorbing and processing his desperation. I lean in once again, a knowing grin on my lips. "I'll make you a deal. I'll assist you, _if_," I tighten my hold on him, enjoying the sharp intake of breath he makes through his teeth, "you tell me exactly why you're hurt."

"Fine, fine, I will, but only after you do your part."

Wordlessly, I crawl to the other end of the couch, push Loki's good leg off, and settle between them. I take the leather string that laces his pants closed in my teeth and pull, and Loki handlessly does the rest, pushing up against the ties so hard that I'm left with minimal work left to do. Painstakingly slow, I take him in my mouth, centimeter by centimeter, cherishing the soft groans that it elicits from his lips. His hands find their way back to my hair again, taking gentle fistfuls of it, and he just barely raises his hips to make it go faster. Eventually, I have all of him, not even feeling remotely uncomfortable. "More," Loki implores in a breathy voice just above a whisper, and in obedience my head begins bobbing up and down in his lap rhythmically. Loki begins controlling my pace, gradually pushing and pulling me until he levels out and allows me to continue under my own will at the same speed. I glance up at his face and am rewarded with blue eyes squinting through pleasure, brow furrowed in exertion, thin lips parted to let soft breaths and sigh out. When our gaze locks, he watches for a moment or two before letting his head fall back, eyes closed and with a grown loader than any yet, so animalistic I'm not sure I hear correctly when I think he says, "Fuck." His hips buck up against my mouth in the minutest way possible, slightly desperate yet calm. His thighs, taught under my hands, ripple in a way so that I know he can't be far. In these last few moments, I pull off him and let my hand wrap around, sliding up and down faster than my mouth ever could. My tongue, pressed against the tip of him, waits, and, with one final shuddering groan from those thin lips, takes what he has to give me.

Loki holds me there softly, his breath evening out. "Up, my darling."

As much I would love to curl into his arms – actually, what I would _really_ love is for Loki to fuck my brains out – I fall back off the couch and crawl next to him. His fingers resume their task of playing with my hair, and my own begin tracing the outline of his jaw. "Your turn."

Loki stares up at the ceiling, mouth slightly ajar. "What was I going to tell you, again?"

"How you were hurt and by whom."

"Oh… Right…" He runs a hand across his face, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "You won't like it."

"In case you haven't noticed, love, I already don't like it. Please just tell me."

He inhales tiredly through his nose. "Very well. S.H.I.E.L.D. sent a Midgardian hero after me to retrieve the Tesseract. You may have heard of him. He seems popular enough. Iron Man, I think it was?"

I nod. "Yeah, I've heard of him. I've seen him, even. He's not exactly discreet, especially since Stark Towers is almost done. He did this to you?"

"Considering I didn't have my scepter on me when he attacked, it shouldn't be that hard to imagine." He sits up straighter with a grunt of pain, eyes closed tightly. "I fear S.H.I.E.L.D. is formulating a team to stop me."

"What makes you think that?"

"Just something one of my spies mentioned. If it's true, it poses a great threat to our plan."

My fingers halt. "How so?"

"I am powerful, dear, but I worry that not even I can stand up to a force with the power that I have been told."

"What of your army?"

"If the Tesseract is ready and I have the Chitauri at my aide, I will likely win. If not, I know not what will happen."

My fingers trace the outline of Loki's jaw absently, my eyes focused on something in midair that isn't there. "What if we stop their plan before it comes to fruition?"

"Well, that would be the perfect ploy, wouldn't it? Achieving that is where the trickery lies, though."

I think a moment more, contemplating what exactly I should say. "These spies… How close do they get to S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"I haven't planted them among the ranks if that's what you're asking. I gather the information from their previous knowledge."

"Well, what if you had a spy within?"

"And just how exactly do you plan on me managing that, darling?" Loki asks, a hint of venom in his voice. "Trust me, I've thought about that time and time again, but I simply do not know how to accomplish it."

I meet his eyes again, sheepish in my reply. "I think I might…"

Loki cocks an eyebrow. "Go on."


	14. Chapter 14

Despite how the cold wind chills me to the bone, I follow Ruby through the crowded streets of Stuttgart, dodging people chattering in German. "Will you slow down?" I call over the bustle. "In heals!"

"Walk faster!" Ruby throws back over her shoulder, though she does slow to a more manageable pace. Considering how jet lagged I feel right now, even the slight decrease in speed is welcome.

We arrived here just this morning, New Year's Day. Ruby and I have wanted to make a trip across Europe since we were children, and today we started here. We intend to travel further north, passing up through the U.K. and ending in Oslo, Norway. We'll be in Stuttgart for a couple days, though. Ruby, the art nerd that she is, wants to see the museum, so we're doing that tomorrow. Right now, though, we're just strolling through the streets like aimless tourists.

"There's a plaza over there," Ruby calls back. She looks behind her only to make sure she grabs my hand, and begins jerking me in a different direction. "We should take pictures."

"Fine, just quit trying to pull my arm out of socket, will you?"

Ruby doesn't respond, but after fighting against the flow of traffic, we make it to the plaza. It's nothing special, really, but it's pleasant enough, and it's out of both the wind and the crowd. "Great," Ruby comments, looking around the plaza. "Let's take a picture with that building in the background." She points to a beautiful building, complete with towering white columns, gold detailing, and huge windows that look into an intricately designed room with towering domed ceilings and blue, gold, and red patterns that remind me of a church. Across the marble floor, men in expensive suits and women in luxurious gowns mingle. A string quartet sits to the side, playing what I know can only be beautiful classical music. Part of me longs to be there, amongst the modern day nobility toasting with small glasses of champagne and making idle chatter, but the other part knows that will never be. I shake my head to clear the thought, a small, sad smile on my lips. The elite of the elite is no place for an escort like me.

Ruby's already found someone to take the picture, and although a small bit of sadness creeps into my heart, the rest remains filled with excitement at the prospect of what this trip holds for us. As ruby spins me around and circles her arm around my waist, my moment of middle class sadness dissipates into young gaiety. The flash of the camera brings my completely back into the moment, a lighthearted giggle escaping from my mouth, then another, and another still. My head feels funny, light sort of, the kind of feeling I get whenever I'm with Ruby. She picks up my giggle as she retrieves her camera, and when she comes back, she hooks her arms my neck, swinging me to and fro. "I love you, Avery."

"I love you, too, Rue," I reply through my laughter.

We revert back to our teenage years, flying around the plaza, climbing the low stone wall that circles the generic city park garden, laughing so hard random people ask us if we need a taxi. We're so loud, so joyous, so raucous, that it takes a while for the screams to reach me.

Initially, I think it's just another group of people having the same fun as Ruby and me, but as the screams multiply and grow louder, my spirit falls. My heart races. My palms sweat. Something isn't right.

I cautiously look over my shoulder, stricken to petrification as the mass of beautiful people from their complimenting building flood into the streets with shrieks and fearful gazes. My neck cranes over the crowd on its own will, hoping to catch a glance of whatever has frightened them so. Shoulders beat and bruise me as people speed past me in escape, but my only thought is for whatever danger lies ahead.

The sirens from a nearby police car wail, headed to the entrance of the building, but are cut short as a blue light flashes and the car flips over its own hood. I can hear Ruby's voice shouting my name, but for some reason it doesn't register. "Kneel before me!" a man's voice raises above the crowd, yet no one heeds him.

"Avery!" Ruby's voice finally reaches me truly. She grabs my head and begins pulling me once more. "We have to go!"

"But…" I mutter to myself, looking back in the direction of the voice as Ruby pulls me away.

"KNEEL!"

This time the voice carries enough power to halt everyone within range instantaneously. One by one, the people of the plaza, rich or poor, gorgeous or homely, male or female, kneel in a ripple. As the people descend, one man remains standing, dressed in clothes of green and leather, covered in a gold armor that I don't understand the use of. He holds a staff, glowing with the same blue light that flipped the cop car, and upon his head, covering the black hair that curls at the nape of his neck, a helmet with two large, curling antlers sits, both objects gilded in gold to match his armor. His eyes meet mine, so green I feel they match his clothing perfectly. He cocks an eyebrow, turns slightly, and points the scepter at me. My instincts scream danger, but my body has locked up. It's not until Ruby, who sunk to one knee when the people around us did, pulls me down harshly do I even comprehend what's going on.

"Is not this simpler?" He begins, turning back to face the crowd square on and extending his arm open in a warm gesture. He begins a slow amble through the crowd, and a sense of respect for this man washes over me. "Is this not your natural state?" Strike that. Respect lost. "It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity." His voice has lowered to a carrying whisper that somehow feels comforting. My eyes, trained on him from the moment I saw him, wander across the plaza. At least eight other forms of this man circle the area, blinking and flickering like holograms, casting watchful gazes across us, as if we are cattle. I don't know if I tried to hit them or throw something at them if anything would happen to either of us, but as satisfying as that sounds, it's probably not a good idea to test that theory. "You were made to be ruled," he continues, still walking through the throng of the kneeling public. "In the end, you will always kneel."

There's silence, and within that pause, my gaze travels back up to the man. He casts a furtive gaze at me, only lasting a split second, but it causes my stomach to twist uncomfortably.

"Not to men like you." The voice of an elderly man interrupts the quiet, and the ensuing rustles of people shifting their position to look at him only carries out the disruption.

The armored man grins and smirks. "There are no men like me."

Another short pause. "There are always men like you."

He straightens himself, his smile, though it hasn't changed, dangerous now. He raises his scepter menacingly. "Look to your elder, people." He aims the weapon at the man. "Let him be an example." The same blue light from before expels from the claw like fixture at the end, heading somewhere over my right shoulder, where the voice was coming from. Women scream in shock, but the true disruptive noise is the sound of something hitting metal. The blue light returns to the man, knocking his feet out from under him in the process.

"You know," a new voice begins from the same area as the older man, calling my attention back to see another man dressed in a red, white, and blue costume, holding a shield, "the last time I was in Germany, and saw a man standing above everybody else," he starts for the man in green, my gaze following him, "we ended up disagreeing." I know him, or at least I've seen him before. In a history book from high school. Captain America.

"The soldier," the other man addresses bitterly, rising to his knees. He chuckles and uses his staff to bring himself back to his feet. "A man out of time."

"I'm not the one who's out of time."

A black plane – at least I _think_ it's a plane – hovers low, a large gun appearing below it and arming. "Loki, drop the weapon and stand down," a woman from within the aircraft commands over a loudspeaker. Before her voice has even echoed, Loki – I guess that's the guy with the fancy, magic glow stick – fires off yet another ball of blue light at the plane that it just dodges. Captain America retaliates and throws his shield, catching it on the ricochet from Loki's armor.

Now that chaos has broken loose, the public scrambles away again, screaming as blue light flashes and cries of battle reverberate. "Avery, run!" Ruby screams, but I can't. I physically can't. I won't move. "Avery, what is _wrong_ with you?" She yanks me up from my knees and begins dragging me with the crowd. "Move your damn feet!"

I finally gain some control over my own body, enough so that Ruby feels comfortable enough to let me go and know I'll be following. And I am. Closely.

Another flash of light. A sharp, inexpressible pain develops on my left side between the middle of my waist and the bottom of my hip. I _was_ following Ruby. She doesn't notice that I crumple to the ground. She keeps running away. She disappears into the crowd. She leaves me screaming in agony.

Blood pounds in my ears so deafeningly loud that it blocks out the discord of the fight. My head swims, caused by whatever has hurt me, and it takes all I have to stay conscious. Although I can't hear them, I can feel cries and groans of suffering rip from my lips. My eyes, closed so tightly the muscles around them begin to ache, see stars behind the lids.

Suddenly, arms slide under me, and I'm lifted up into the hold of a stranger. I let my eyes open drowsily as unconsciousness begins to win out. Above me, the mask faced of Captain America stares straight ahead. He glances down at me, eyes filled with gentle worry and tries to tell me something I can't hear. My heads lolls over to see Iron Man cuffing Loki. When did Iron Man get here? Or has he always been there? Oh my God, I can't even think straight.

The edges of my vision begin to fade, what I can see speckled with flashing white stars, yet somehow I manage to see Loki look over, a mischievous, knowing smirk on his lips. I hate that son of a bitch. I hate him. I hate him… I hate…


	15. Chapter 15

I come back to consciousness randomly and only for a few seconds at a time, catching bits of pieces of what goes on: loud thunder and a scared Loki; a completely empty plane as far as I can see; doctors moving me to a gurney as a woman in a skintight, black suit with short, red hair looks on; a white room with little machines that beep in my ear. At one point Steve and Tony along with two other men – one dressed in a suit with a smile that seems like it's always there, the other bald, angry looking, and wearing an eye patch – stand a small distance away from the foot of my bed, discussing something heatedly.

Now when I wake up, I can tell it's going to be for a while. I feel wide awake and, aside from the bandages the surround my midsection, I feel pretty normal. The room is pitch black now, and quick glance at the digital clock on the wall tells me why. It's almost midnight. I sigh and rub my eyes, and I realize… There's no wires or tubes connected to me. And the bed feels softer. And the covers feel heavier. Am I even in the medical room anymore?

As my eyes focus, I realize, no, I'm not. In the dark I manage to make out the room in detail. It's relatively small but not uncomfortably so. The bed I lie in, a twin, sits with its headboard only against a wall, a nightstand with a lamp besides me. Against the wall on my right, a plain wooden dresser stands with four long drawers running its length. Other than the three pieces of furniture, the room is empty, devoid of anything that could be deemed frivolous. There's not even a window.

Well… At least I'm in a regular room. I wonder wha-

A small gasp spurts from my lips. My head fills with pressure, and my ears feel like they need to pop. A range of memories flash back before my eyes as the pressure alleviates, and when the last bit of that muted feeling leaves, I feel more open, more free, than ever before.

Now where's Loki? I need to report to him.

He knows I'm restored. I can feel him calling me, telling me to come to my king. I flick the light on, debated whether to heed him or not. If I go to him, I risk security cameras and guards. Loki can't conceal me with his magic when he doesn't know exactly where I am. If I don't follow Loki's command, the consequences will surely be severe.

Well, that settles it.

I throw the covers off – noting the pajamas someone dressed me in while I was out – and head to the door, taking a hesitant breath before there's another, stronger pull that immediately makes me open the door and step into the dark hallway. From here, there are no guards, but there's got to be cameras. Oh well. I'm here now. If they see me they'll send someone after me. I just hope if that's the case, they get me before I get close to wherever Loki is. That way I can claim my injury is messing with my thought process. No matter what awaits in the halls, one thing's for damn sure: I'm not gaining anything by just standing here.

I meander through the halls, trying to look calm while remaining alert for an guards. I don't come across any, though, and the closer I get to Loki, the more pull he has. I can hear his voice calling me in my head, a small whisper when I first hear it and gradually grows louder. _Just a bit further, darling. That's it. You're so close. Faster, my dear. I need to see my queen._

By the time I reach is cell, the pull is so strong it actually hurts, his voice so loud and clear it's like he's standing right next to me. _Come in_, he whispers to me. _I won't bite. Much._

That throws me over the edge, and in desperation, I practically slam the button to allow the compartment door to slide open. I don't even have enough patience to wait for the door to open completely and instead slide in once the space is just big enough. Sensing I've passed, it closes behind me just as quickly as it opened.

In the center of this room, a large, curved, glass cell contains Loki. He stands close to the glass, hands clasped behind his back and a dark though welcoming look across his face. "Hello, my dear."

_Hello, my dear_. The pull in my stomach doesn't subside. If anything, it grows stronger. Loki sneers, knowing he still has me at his every whim. He simply brings a hand to his front and beckons me forward. I obey, trying not to seem so eager but failing, I'm sure. The closer I get to Loki the less pull I feel until finally it disappears completely when I place my hands against the glass and stand a mere foot away from him. The desperation to be with him must reflect in my eyes because he gives me one of his cocky, powerful, I-know-what-this-is-doing-to-you smiles. "Are you alright, love?"

"Want you. Out here. Right now."

Loki cocks his head. "Was there a complete sentence anywhere in that?"

"Shut up. Not thinking straight."

"Did those mortals kill your brain cells to such a degree that you can no longer form a coherent thought? Your grammar is atrocious right now."

My lips twist up into a smile that I try to fight back. "Maybe. Maybe I need a god to remind me how."

"You are already doing better. That was full sentence."

I can't help but laugh a little at that. "You are such a smart ass."

Loki sneers. "Now, about the lust glimmering in your eyes…" he growls, changing the mood of the entire room. He takes the last two or three steps needed to reach the glass, placing his hands level with mine. He peers down at me, his face dark, eyes filled with sensual teasing, his cocky smile still present on his lips. Even though we're as close as we can get with the glass intervening, the pull in my stomach returns, this time spurred by what my body want and not Loki's beckon. Goosebumps travel up my arms, down my back, and pool into a warmth between my legs and my stomach twists and ties in knots. My mouth pops open just slightly, and my eyes travel the length of his body, trying to remember what he looks like beneath his Asgardian clothes. Loki smirks quietly. "Oh, not it's spread," he purrs. "Your whole body tells my how desperate you are for me to bring you to the peak of ecstasy, too take you and ravage you until you forget all but two things: the pleasure you feel when I fill you, and the name of your king as it pulls from your lips in cries and screams." I can feel my face flush deeply, and Loki only chuckles. "A blush, my dear? So experienced amongst mortals, yet still so innocent to the ways of a god. Release me from this cage for just a while, my sweet minx, and I assure you, I will blot out every last fragment of your purity. Let me take you, Avery. Let me leave you senseless."

…

…

Hot.

Motherfucking.

Damn.

I lean my forehead against the glass with a groan of frustration. "I can't," I whine.

"Don't deny what you want when it's right in front of you, Avery."

"But won't they know you're out?"

"They shouldn't. I used a spell to freeze all alarms and cameras for a few hours."

I cock an eyebrow, impressed. "You can do that from here?"

Loki grins. "There's a lot I can do from this cell, love. Although," his eyes study my body thoughtfully, "there's one thing I can't do behind this glass."

Hot damn, hot damn, hot DAMN!

"Which button do I press?"

Loki's grin widens deviously. "Directly to the bottom left corner of the covered, red button."

Immediately, I turn away and head to the control panel. Left of the red button. Left of the red button. Ah, there it is. The hiss of the hydraulics releasing air so the door can slide open sounds from behind me at the buttons press, and when I turn to face the cage once more, Loki's striding towards me, urgent in his task. Once close enough, he reaches out, takes my face in his hands, and kisses my with enough force to knock me back a step. His tongue flicks at my top lip, and obediently I open my mouth and let him in. His fingers lighten their pressure and brush between my cleavage to my hips, snaking back up under my shirt to hold my bandaged waist gingerly. His kisses, still harsh, travel across my jawline and bury in my neck, teeth grazing against my skin and creating a shudder that attacks my body violently. "I thought I was the desperate one," I sigh.

"I've thought about pressing your naked body to mine for the past two days, love," he growls into my neck, his hands moving down my waist to cup my ass and pull me against him. His arousal presses hard against me, sending another wave of heat between my legs. "I've grown _extremely_ desperate."

I bite my lip and furrow my brow, the intensity of Loki's need bringing mine up as well. "What are you waiting for, then? Take me."

Loki chuckles and pulls away, one hand sliding back up my body to hold my chin. "Just because I've longed for your touch doesn't mean I've lost my self-control. I live to watch you squirm and beg for my touch," he leans in just enough so our lips barely touch, holding my head still at my chin, " and, trust me, I'm going to make you beg for every last moan, every last kiss, every last tender, teasing finger fall."

Does he have any fucking clue just how fucking turned on I am right now? I'm going to rip all that clothing off if he doesn't hurry up.

It's almost like he can read my mind because his fingertips brush down my neck, so lit goosebumps inevitably follow. They glide across the curve of my chest, making me shiver and sigh. He leans down and brushes his lips across the tops of them, pulling away only to lift my shirt over my head before immediately resuming his task. He holds me at my ribs and traces lazy patterns with his thumbs across the ridges. Gradually he pushes me back, his lips meeting mine once again, tongue brushing and caressing mine. Cold attacks my back when Loki presses me against the cell roughly. His teeth nip at my collarbone and leave red marks, his hands grabbing my wrists roughly and pinning them by my head. "Tell me what you want," he growls, "and don't you _dare_ say you want me to take you again," he threatens, his knee popping between my legs, rocking back and forth achingly slow. I choke back a moan, close my eyes, and bite my lip.

"That," I manage. "Keep doing that."

Loki sniggers and presses his knee harder against me. A small gasp on my part, and I begin to rind my hips against it. Moans rise into the air, and I grow wetter as Loki takes my breast in his hand, massage it as he brings it to his to flick his tongue over my nipple. His other hand follows the curve of my body and dips his hands into my pj pants and in between my legs. He finds the sweet spot almost instantly and rubs at it, and my body tenses up on reaction. Now that they're free to move, my fingers caress the back of Loki's head. His fingers finally curl up into me, slow and careful. "More," I whimper, grinding down into his hand.

Loki releases me from his mouth, his eyes flashing. "More what?"

"Faster."

He chuckles darkly and leans against me. His mouth brushes just against my cheek and carries back to my ear. "Don't rush this love. All good comes to those who wait," he whispers seductively in my ear. "Just be patient."

A moan of pleasure mixed with frustration escapes me, but thankfully Loki does move a tad bit faster. He mumbles something in my ear I don't catch, but I really don't care. Right now, he's just making me feel so good. And even better. Wow, even more. The pleasure keeps building with my moans in tow. "Shit, Loki!" I cry out, but he only laughs.

And then his fingers are gone, but the pleasure remains. It rolls over me in waves as I wait for Loki to make his next move. The gold light that surrounded him the first time I saw him transform wraps around him against as he removes the remaining scraps of clothing from my body. My arms snake around his neck as he grabs my ass once again to lift me up. My legs wrap around his waist, opening myself up to him, but he seems intent on muttering something else before going further. Then, as if someone flipped a switch, he slides inside, and I'm crying from pleasure. I've never felt like this before. My head feels light and fuzzy, and I already feel so close. And he's _just_ started. "Don't you give in just yet," he commands as if he knows exactly what effect he's having on me.

"But-"

"_Don't._"

I bury my face in his neck as he starts moving in and out, clenching every muscle in my body just to keep myself from climax. I can't even whimper now for fear of losing myself. Still, I dare to squeak out, "Harder," just to see how far I can take this.

Loki, his breath hot against my ear, listens to my wish, forcing himself inside entirely. A full scream rips from my lips as tears stream down my face, Loki's own soft gasps morphing into strenuous groans. "Come, Avery," Loki demands, his voice catching on his own noises of pleasure. "Come now."

Even before the words leave his mouth, I scream Loki's name at the top of my lungs as the full, mindboggling effect of whatever he has done to me hits. My body convulses, throwing me deep into an incomprehensible stupor that numbs my body and makes me grow limp. My head rests on Loki's shoulder as, with one final thrust, he fills me completely, his own groan of delight echoing through the chamber. His lips press against my neck desperately, peppering the skin with deep, passionate kisses. In time, he sets me back on my feet, though he doesn't release me from my spot between him and the glass. My fingers comb through the tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck as we catch our breath, exchanging soft, tired pecks occasionally. "What did you do to me?" I finally whisper.

Loki smirks, his forehead resting against mine, his blue eyes watching mine intently. "I told you I would take you as a god would, love, and what better way to do so than to heighten the arousal to the point of insanity? Magic is a wonderful, _wonderful_ aid."

I return his amused grin, running my fingers up and down his chest. "If that's what sex with a god is like then you've really been holding out on me."

Loki shrugs. "I was saving it for a special occasion."

"Christmas didn't qualify as special?"

"Christmas was your own doing."

I giggle and nod. "Fair enough."

Loki laughs slightly, too, his hands holding my waist. His eyes follow his touch, and his expression morphs from lazy enjoyment to a mask of distress. "Does it hurt?"

"Huh?" I follow his gaze down to my waist, taking in the bandaged wound. "Oh, no. It's fine. Your spell worked perfectly. When I'm under I think I'm feeling pain, but right now it just feels kind of funny."

"I almost broke on the plane when I saw you writhing under Stark's touch. The guilt… It was almost too much to bear…" His gaze falls from mine to the floor, his brow furrowing in disgust. "I felt like such a monster."

"Darling." My hand slides to cup his cheek and return his gaze with mine. "No matter what you may see during the day, don't believe it. When things feel like I'm not who I am, or you feel blame for the fake pain, or if anything else just seems to fall apart, remember this night." I press my lips tenderly to his, hoping beyond hope that they take with them at least some of his pain when I pull away. "Remember how I love you."

Something flickers across Loki's face, but it's gone before I can even begin to pinpoint what it is. He smiles halfheartedly, still not sure in my words. "I will most certainly try, dearheart, but I cannot make any promises. I can be very jealous."

I giggle. "You? Jealous? Over Rogers? Darling, you will have nothing to worry about when we cross that bridge. He is far too pure for my taste."

The playful spark in Loki's eye returns, bringing a smile to face along with it. "True. Very true, love. I just hope we gather the information needed and cause enough trouble quickly. The sooner we escape this damned vessel, the sooner our rule begins."

"I can't wait," I try to respond, but a yawn interrupts me. The effects of Loki's little sex spell have taken a great toll on me. Loki, noting my exhaustion, brushes the hair stuck to my forehead back over my ear, giving me a look that tells me more than words can. "No. Not yet."

"Darling, the spell will begin at any moment now. I'd like for you to be back in bed when it arrives."

I sigh, but agree silently. Loki kisses my forehead and frees me from his trap. Instantly, he is clothed once more, and he enjoys watching me dress far too much for me to think of sleep even though my eyes droop repeatedly. As I move to open his cell, he takes me in his arms tenderly, one arms wrapped around my back, the other bent so he may caress the back of my head. He kisses the top of my hair lightly before releasing me. "I love you," he reminds me.

I smile sadly as I press the button, watching him trudge back into the circular prison. "I love you, too."

As I return to my quarters, part of me longs to run back and stay the night in Loki's cell with him. Part of me doesn't care if she's caught, if the whole plan is destroyed, if I've endangered Loki and myself for nothing. Thankfully, that part is so small it's easily ignored. Once again, I come across no guards, and, if Loki was right, the cameras shouldn't pick me up just yet. I can feel parts of the spell returning as memories from tonight already start to fade. By the time I reach my compartment, over half of the night is gone. I don't want to forget… I want to remember tonight for my own sake. Loki may be able to think back whenever he wants on what transpired, but I'll only have a small window to recall, a window I will most likely spend in his company only to forget in a few hours once again.

I hate this spell…

It's almost two in the morning. What the hell am I still doing up?


	16. Chapter 16

_(Hey, guys! I know it's been ages since I've updated this thing, and that's entirely my fault. I'm kind of working on this still yet, but it is by no means being abandoned. I have plans for this story, and they are going to be fulfilled. At any rate, enjoy this rather lengthy update! :) )_

"I can leave if that would make you more comfortable."

I look over at Steve as the nurse unwraps the bandages from my waist. "I don't think I'm the uncomfortable one here," I comment with a small smirk. "It's not that big of deal anyhow." It really isn't though. It's not like my shirt's completely off. It's just pulled up to my ribs. "You can go if it bothers you, though."

Steve shakes his head as he averts his eyes. "No, no. I'm fine."

I shrug. "If you say so." I watch the nurse unwrap my wound and am relieved when the skin underneath appears lighter and smoother, though still gray and rough in comparison to the rest of my body. A sigh of satisfaction whispers through my parted lips like smoke. "Much better," I mumble.

The nurse nods in agreement. "We'll just reapply the antibacterial, bandage you up, and let you heal," she comments, prodding the ugly skin softly in various places. "Does this hurt?"

"Not really. Maybe a little, but not like it was."

The nurse opens a small tub of white salve and spreads it across my waist. "In that case, I believe it's safe to give you limited access to the ship. Hold," she commands as she places a white, gauzy bandage against my side. I obey, placing a finger over the end as she winds it around my midsection. "Captain Rogers will escort you to Director Fury, and he will tell you where you can and can't go."

I nod, glancing back over at Steve who seems extremely interested in the wrinkles of his casual shirt. I smirk as the nurse finishes bandaging me, and I pull my shirt back down over my stomach. "Ready?" I ask him.

He looks back to me, smiles, and nods. "Follow me."

We walk through a labyrinth of sharp hallways past various agents. Steve never stays more than an inch or so ahead of me, eyes set before him, but I can't help but glance up at him and study the strong line of his jaw and his perfectly places sandy blonde hair. He is… So cute.

He glances down at me and smiles tightly though sincerely when I look away suddenly in embarrassment. "Question, ma'am?"

"Uh… Yeah." That's it. _That's_ why I was watching you.

"Maybe I can help?"

I bet you can. I bet you can. "Why are you always around me?"

Steve looks away. "If it bothers you…"

"Oh, no! No, I don't mind at all. In fact, I rather enjoy having a familiar face around to hold onto with all the doctors and nurses that buzz in and out of my room. I was just wondering."

Steve looks back at me, trying to figure out how to word something. "Because of Loki. His scepter… It reminds me of a Hydra weapon." He scoffs and shakes his head. "You probably don't know what Hydra is. Er, was."

"No, I do," I say. "My tenth grade history teacher was infatuated with you. We learned everything she knew in her stalkerish mind. She'd probably pass out if she were in my place."

Steve chuckles. "Sounds a lot like Agent Coulson. Anyway, Hydra weaponry is the one thing on this ship I'm familiar with. When Schmidt and his cronies used their weaponry, people completely disintegrated. I guess I'm just curious as to why Loki's scepter worked differently."

"Maybe he willed it differently."

"Maybe… I assigned myself to you aid before of that though. That, and you were hurt under my watch, and I don't abandon people caught in the crossfire."

A small, careful grin settles on my lips. "That's very noble of you."

"It's the least I could do. Besides, I like helping people any way I can. That's why I initially wanted to join the Army."

I study his face more, longing to run my fingers along his jaw. A nervous burning stings my stomach at the thought. "I wish there were more men like you in the world."

Steve's cheeks flush slightly. "There used to be a lot like me. Men that actually acted like gentlemen were common back in my day."

"Times change, though," I respond remorsefully. "Guys think the quickest way to win a girl is to get her drunk, and then they only want their prize for a night. Nice guys – truly kind men – are a dying breed," I stare ahead thoughtfully, "and self-respecting women who care enough not to settle for the first Class A asshole that says he loves them are dying out, too."

I can feel Steve watching me and wait for him to say something. "I don't think I'm the only person in the wrong time on this ship," he finally mumbles.

"How do you mean?" I meet his eyes again.

He smirks. "I think you should have lived in the '40s."

I smile but shake my head. "Nah. I don't regret the time period I live in. Just some of the people that pollute it."

"You would have fit in perfectly, though."

I press my lips together tightly, trying to pick my words carefully. "I'm a little too… Wild for that lifestyle, I think. I'm not one to submit without complaint to anybody."

"You make it sound like we bought and sold our women," Steve laughs. "Honestly, though, those guys you seem to want to find would be easy to come across back then."

"I found one in _this_ decade."

What…? _What?_ Did _I_ just say that?! Did those words _seriously_ just leave my mouth?! Kill me now. Please, just kill me now. "Uh… I mean…"

Steve's face turns a shade redder than before, but he holds his composure. "Don't worry about it. I understand."

The rest of the walk remains awkwardly quiet, but thankfully it doesn't take long for Steve to hang a left past the lab where Tony and another guy I don't know are running tests on Loki's scepter, through a short hallway, and into a large atrium. A long conference table sits to the left as we pass to a tall, dark figure standing before two screens and staring out over the bustle of agents below and through the panels of curved glass opposite him. His stance rigid, hands clasped behind his back, looking as angry as he did when I first saw him in one of my spells of consciousness. "Director," Steve calls respectfully.

The man turns to us, and once he lays eyes- er, eye – on me, he gives a sort of half smile. "Well, good morning Sleeping Beauty. 'Bout time you joined us in the real world." He steps forward and offers his hand. "Director Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D."

I try to return his smile as I take his hand and shake it slightly, but it's hard when I feel this intimidated. He's so… Militaristic. Even his jokes sound like commands.

"The medical unit think she's ready to have access to this ship," Steve explains for me. "We just need to clear with where she has access to."

Fury glances at Steve, then back at me, studying me thoughtfully. "That depends. How do you feel?"

"Fine, sir," I mumble.

"No more pain?"

"No, sir."

Fury nods his head sharply. "In that case, I'd just as soon return you home, but the medical staff undoubtedly has more tests to run on you." He turns away from Steve and I and strides back to the screens. "Miss Keaton, you have the same access to the ship as Captain Rogers, but until you figure just what that access entails, I don't want you leaving your quarters without an escort unless absolutely necessary. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. You're free to go, then."

Steve and I turn around and start to leave, his hand on my upper back guiding me forward, when Furry calls. "Rogers, I need to speak to you privately for a moment."

"Yes, sir," he responds to the Director. "Wait for me in the hall. I'll show you around in a bit," he says to me in a lower voice.

I nod silently, still feeling somewhat meek. I listen to Steve, though, and head down the hallway, stopping just short of the exit.

I wonder what happened to Ruby. I hope she got away all right, and I hope she's not too worried about me. Oh, who am I kidding? Rue and I have been friends since childhood. She's the closest thing to family I have. I doubt she would just forget about me. At least, I hope she wouldn't…

Oh, and what about Tregul and Mystic? How will they survive without me? Will Ruby take care of them while I'm gone?

_Calm down, _I tell myself. _They'll be okay, all three of them. You know they will be._ And somehow, I do. I know my worrying is pointless. I'm not sure how I know, but something just out of my understanding calms me. I sigh, lean against the wall, and run a hand back through my hair. As cool as it is to be with such remarkable people, I'm ready to go home.

Steve's footsteps echo down the hall only a few moments later, and when I look up to greet him, his smile brings heat to my cheeks. "Ready for the grand tour?" he asks me as he offers me his arm.

With a small laugh, I push off the wall and take his arm. "Absolutely."

We stop by the lab first, and Steve and Tony, with some obvious tension, introduce me to Dr. Bruce Banner, a seemingly kind, gentle man, thought Tony tells me he has some anger management problems. From the lab, Steve briefly shows me the hanger and then leads me past the mess hall, a few storage rooms, and to the training center. There the red-headed girl in the black catsuit I saw on the plane spars with some rather large S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. When she takes a water break, Steve guides me over to her and introduces her as Agent Natasha Romanoff. She has the same kind of strict attitude as Fury that makes me feel nervous, and it doesn't help that she doesn't crack a smile once while we're talking or that she seems like she really couldn't care less about talking to me at all. I can't help but feel rather relieved when she goes back to her sparring partners and Steve decides to lead on.

It easily takes a solid hour for Steve to fully show me where I'm allowed to go, taking his time back in the control center to introduce to me Thor who continually apologizes for Loki's actions ("I must apologize for my brother. He's not in his right state of mind. He would never do this if he only could think properly."), but no matter how sincere he may sound, I can't honestly accept what he says. I don't even like thinking about Loki at all let alone ever being able to forgive him. In fact, Steve asks if I want to walk past his cell I reply no before the words are even out of his mouth. The absolute _very_ last thing I want is to be anywhere near that monster.

So instead of taking me that way, Steve leads me back to the lab. "Those two have been wanting to really study your injury since you first woke up," he explains. "Stark wouldn't leave me alone while you and Banner were speaking, so I told him wed come back later if you were okay with it." He looks down at me a little apprehensively. "_Are_ you okay with it?"

I smirk. "I suppose I can sacrifice my privacy for science."

Steve stops, and when I consequentially halt and look up at him, he looks embarrassed. "Y-You don't have to. If it makes you uncomfortable-"

"You need to stop taking me so seriously, Steve," I interrupt with a bit of a laugh. "I play around a lot."

After a moment, Steve smiles halfheartedly. "If you say so." I take his arm again, and we continue back to the lab.

Tony's sitting cross-legged on one of the tables with a monitor pulled up in front of him, and Banner sweeps some contraption over Loki's scepter, but both look up when Steve and I come in. "Great," Tony calls. He pushes the monitor aside, hops to his feet, and claps his hands together. "Ready to be probed?"

I cock an eyebrow. "Well, I've heard you have a lot of experience with that, but I'm not that kind of girl."

Tony pulls the corner of his lips into a bemused smirk. "Smart ass. I like that. Though from what I hear on the street you _are_ that kind of girl."

"Only on the weekends, now."

"It's a Saturday."

"And only for the proper restitution."

"I'm a billionaire."

"And in the proper location."

"I have a room with a king."

I smile smugly. He's not going to win this. "And the person has to be decent."

"Uh, I'm Tony Stark."

"Exactly."

Tony pulls his head back sharply, offended. "Wow. I've never been turned down before. Especially by an escort."

I shrug. "I'm not on the clock. I can say no all I want."

"Wait," Steve interjects. "Am I missing something?"

"Oh, she hasn't told you?" Tony asks with false innocence.

"Hasn't told me what?"

I glare at Tony so severely I'm sure the man's blood _must_ be boiling from the fire in my gaze. "Don't," I mouth.

Something sparks in his eyes, and I can practically hear him say "What's in it for me?" but thankfully he just waves his hand dismissively. "Never mind. I guess she'll fill you in later."

"All right," Banner begins, changing the subject. He steps out from behind the table holding Loki's scepter, picks up a pen, and starts tapping it on the palm of his hand, and I get the feeling he does this a lot out of habit. He takes his place beside Tony and gestures towards my shirt. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," I mutter, immediately pulling my shirt up to my ribs and unwinding the pus soaked gauze. My nose wrinkles in disgust, but Tony and Banner don't really seem to care. Steve, on the other hand, is trying to avert his eyes without making it so obvious that he's uncomfortable and failing miserably. "There," I say as I ball up the gauze and throw it into a nearby trash can. I roll the hem of my shirt under itself so it will stay and hold my arms out level with my shoulders. "Ready for your study."

Tony and Bruce circle me for a while, muttering thing back and forth, looking between the normal side of my waist and the hurt side. Banner runs his fingers over the gray wrinkles, and when he pulls away, the pad of his forefinger looks slick and shiny.

"Well," Tony says a few moments later, "I don't get it. A burn like that one you had should take months to get this state if ever."

"And I don't understand how something powered by the cube could hold back like that," Bruce adds on. "I mean, Steve you said the last time weapons were powered by the Tesseract they destroyed anything they hit."

"They did, but…" Steve looks at me hesitantly, "Avery had an idea. Maybe Loki didn't want to destroy his target. Maybe he changed the cube's power to fit his need. That staff isn't exactly a HYDRA weapon. It doesn't have a trigger on it. It seems to be controlled differently."

"That's true," Tony murmurs, looking over his shoulder at the staff. "But why would he want it to harm instead of kill? A pouty brat trying to take over the world… Why spare an insignificant someone?"

It's silent for a moment, and I can feel a shift in the air. The three sets of eyes slide back to me, cautiously watching me. "Unless the someone isn't insignificant to him…" Banner counters.

I look between the three of them, letting what they're saying sink in. My heart pounds, and my body starts shaking. "You've _got_ to be joking. Do I look like the kind of person Loki's going to take mercy on?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." Bruce starts tapping his pen on his palm again. "All we know is others have died from this thing, but you? You're only hurt. And you're healing remarkably well."

"Not to mention you were allegedly a side casualty." Stark crosses his arms and sets his footing. "Loki was fighting Cap. If your injury was just a missed shot, then why was Loki not trying to kill Steve?"

I roll my eyes. "How the hell am I supposed to know?"

"I think you know more than you're letting on," Tony mutters dangerously, stepping towards me.

I take a step back and brush a loose strand of hair back behind my ear. Why am I so nervous? I know I've done nothing wrong, so how can these guys intimidate me into feeling I've something to hide. "I swear I don't know why I'm not dead. It was a big a shock to me as it was to you, and I'm just as confused. But maybe Loki didn't want to kill Steve. Maybe he saw Steve as a worthy addition to his rule if he won it. Why get rid of someone powerful when they could be of use later?"

Bruce and Tony look at each other. "That would explain why Barton's still alive," Banner says.

"But not why the staff did what it did or why her wound healed that fast," Tony retaliates.

"Good Lord, he's a god isn't he?"

"In his own mind…" Steve grumbles.

"Regardless, we know both he and Thor are capable of some pretty unexplainable things. I mean, can you explain why Thor is the only one who can pick his hammer up? Or how Thor and Loki even got here without a space ship? There's more going on here than what our current scientific knowledge could describe. Whether it's magic or advanced science, who knows? But the fact of the matter is, whatever is going on may not be able to break down into human understanding. Ignorance might just be something we have to accept in this case."

Bruce and Tony look at me a moment longer, then Bruce removes his glasses and rubs his eyes. "I guess that's possible."

"Possible, yeah, but I'm not buying that completely just yet." Tony meets my eyes, and the way he looks at me tells me he isn't going to let this go easily. "I'm not ready to fold my hand just yet."

"Look," I begin, "you can think whatever you want to think, but I know less about Loki and what he's planning than you do. I'm trying to help, but if there's a possibility that I'll be accused of something I played no hand in, you can find a new lab rat to study."

Without a second thought, I turn on my heel and storm out of the lab, pulling my shirt down over my unbandaged waist.

I'm not even sure which way to go nor where I want to go exactly. All I know is I want to put as much distance between Stark and myself, so I let my body go on autopilot and allow my mind to wander.

If Bruce wants further examination of me, he can have it. I'm not mad at him. Not Tony though. Not since he seems to think I'm a part of Loki's scheme. God, just the idea that anyone could believe I know what's going on… It's enough to make me shake in anger. For a man who is supposed to be one of the brightest minds in the world, how can he think something so ridiculous?

Wait, where am I?

No one's around. I don't even know when I got away from everyone. Steve hasn't taken me this way. So how is it this place seems familiar to me?

A few steps ahead there's a single large door, and for some reason, it feels extremely foreboding. In that same moment thought, I _want_ to go to it. Curiosity begs me to step through into the mysterious room on the other side, and I am only too willing to give in to my questioning.

I check behind me one last time to make sure no one's coming then take the few cautious steps needed to reach the door. My stomach flips anxiously both fearful of what lies within and excited to uncover the mystery. I reach out to the little button that every door has to open it, hesitating only for a second before continuing.

"Avery!"

I snap my head to Steve's voice. It came from a distance down the hall and still echoes around me. I retract my hand quickly, suddenly feeling guilty for what I was about to do. "Down here!" I call back, and after one last look at the door, I wander back down the hall towards Steve.

He meets me only a few moments later flushed and breathing rather deeply. He ran down here. "Where'd you run off to? I've been looking all over for you."

I frown in confusion. "What are you talking about? I've only been gone a few minutes."

"No, it's been closer to an hour."

I can feel my eyes widen just slightly. "O-Oh…"

Steve looks around the hall, clearly puzzled. "What are you doing down here?" he whispers, grabbing my upper arms and looking back into my face. "I thought you didn't want to go down here."

"What? When did I say that?"

"Earlier. You said you didn't want to see Loki's prison."

"That's Loki's prison…?" I look back over my shoulder, remembering how excited I was to go explore the unknown room. I can only imagine Loki's face if I had stepped in there: cocky, menacing, reveling in my discomfort. "I'm glad you came when you did."

Steve's lips pull up in a tight smile, and his eyes slide humbly down, though before they can reach the floor, they widen in shock. "Avery, look."

Alarmed, I turn my gaze sharply to my waist to see my shirt now soaked through with pus. "Shit," I mutter.

"Come with me," Steve says, already heading in the other direction, and obediently I follow. Soon we're back amongst a variety of agents, and the looks some of them give me make me feel uncertain. Maybe Tony's not the only one who thinks I'm up to something…

Thankfully, Steve finally reaches his destination, a supply closet that I follow him into somewhat reluctantly. I know what he's going to do, and I'm just not used to care being given to me.

I don't say anything as he searches the shelves for more gauze, and it doesn't take long for him to return with a roll of the stuff. Without a word I pull my shirt up to my ribs. This time, Steve doesn't seem to be uncomfortable. Rather he seems focused intently on the gray patch of skin when he kneels down I front of me. He places the beginning of the gauze over the top of the wound, and murmurs, "Hold," just like the nurse before, and, just like I did then, I obey. He meticulously wraps the bandage around my center, slowly covering the patch and hiding it out of sight. Finally, he tears the gauze and tucks the end into itself. "There," he says as he stands back up. His eyes meet mine, and it's only then that I realize just how blue they are…

"Thank you," I manage, suddenly feeling awkward with Steve so close.

He doesn't say anything for a while, just winds up the gauze. His gaze leaves mine, looking down at the roll in his hand. "Don't mention it. I told you I felt responsible for you." He walks away, putting the roll back in the medical case he took it from. "If I can help you, I'm going to."

"You don't have to," I assure, pulling my shirt back down to my hips. "It wasn't your fault that this happened. It was an accident."

He doesn't move or look at me, only holds the metal shelf he stands at as if bracing himself against it. His eyes unfocus, and although he looks like he's thinking of something horrible, and although I want to be able to comfort him in some way, the furthest I dare go right now is stand at the end of the shelving, looking at him. Way to go, Avery. Social awkwardness strikes again. Just sit there watching him like a stalker. That's exactly what you should do right now.

"Accident or not," Steve starts again, looking over at me, "I'm going to help all I can. I didn't do my job in Stuttgart, but I'm going to do my job now."

I rest my head against the metal shelving, still watching Steve. "This isn't your job though. You don't need to do this."

"Avery, I want to." He lets go of the shelf and steps in front of me. "I won't feel like I did the right thing if I don't take care of you now."

But… I don't… HOW DO I LET SOMEONE TAKE CARE OF ME I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT DO WHAT DO WHAT DOOOOO.

"Okay."

Okay… That's the best you could come up with… Okay… This is why you let Ruby do most of the talking. Say something else.

"I really appreciate that… I'm not used to having someone help me out."

Steve frowns and leans back against the shelves. "What about your parents?"

I look down at my feet, my lips pressed into a tight line. I knew this was coming. It had to crop up at some point, right? "They left when I was little. I grew up with my grandma, but she passed when I turned nineteen. In the years since she died… I've just kind of turned into a loner."

"You really didn't have anyone who cared for you?"

I shrug. "I mean, I had friends, I guess. I had a best friend from preschool that I've never been without, but… I don't know what she's doing now. I was with her in Stuttgart, and I don't know what happened to her…" I shake my head, trying to push away the thoughts of what could have happened to Ruby. "I guess I was scared to let people take care of me. It seemed like everyone that tried to help always ended up leaving me in the end…" Tears prick at the corner of my eyes, and I try to play it off as my eyes itch when I wipe the water away, but it doesn't fool Steve. I didn't think he would.

"I'm not planning on going anywhere," he comforts.

"This is different. This is temporary. I know that. It's the ones that ended too soon that kill me."

Steve rubs my upper arm delicately. "Who says this has to be temporary? Just because you won't be on the Helicarrier forever doesn't mean we can't stay in touch when all is said and done. Where do you live?"

I wipe another tear away, not trying to hide it anymore, and look into Steve's face. "Outside of New York."

"Well, what a coincidence. I live in New York. You see? Once all this is over, we can still talk."

He sounds like he's talking to a twelve year old, but I guess that's fitting since I'm kind of acting like one, but I smile and nod my head. "I'd like that. I don't want you to feel obligated to help, though."

He smiles and shakes his head. "How many times do I have to tell you, Avery? I _want_ to. I like helping."

That nervous stinging in my stomach I had earlier comes back along with the burning in my cheeks, and all I can do is let out a nervous laugh and look at my feet. "Thank you," I mutter.

"Don't mention it." He smiles back down at me delicately then pats my shoulder. "It's getting late. I'll take you back to your room."

Wordlessly, we leave the supply closet and weave through the slowly dwindling crowd of agents and soon Steve halts in front of my room. "I'll be here tomorrow morning and we'll decide what to do, okay?"

"Okay." Dammit, there you go again with your one word replies. Why do you suck so much at this talking thing?

Steve smiles awkwardly and nods. "Goodnight, Ave-"

The poor guy doesn't even get the chance to finish his sentence before my lips end up on his. How they got there, I don't really know, but sure enough, I'm kissing him. Deeply. And Steve's gone all rigid, and I can practically hear the combined noise of the gears in our heads working furiously to figure out just what the hell is going on. Before our lips part, my hand searches for the button to open the door and slams it, and instantaneously I pull away and retreat into my room, muttering a flustered goodbye even as the door slides closed.

What the hell did I just do? WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST DO?! I fucking force kissed Captain America. Oh God, what am I going to do tomorrow? How can I say _anything?_

I fall back on my bed and cover my face with my hands. I'm too old to be acting like this. I'm not better than a high school girl with a crush. Jesus Christ, why am I so fucking weird? I groan into my hands and just curl into my side, not bother with undressing. Eventually I drift off to sleep plagued with the thought that I kissed a guy who's technically old enough to be my grandfather.

When I get to Loki's cell that night, trying so hard to tune out the devious whispers he plants in my head, I immediately press the button to release him and continue on up the stairs and into Loki's arms when he steps out of the cage. "Darling," he murmurs tentatively, his fingers stroking my hair cautiously, "is something the matter?"

"I kissed Rogers, and the other me was freaking out, and real me is freaking out, and Rogers was freaking out, and I don't want you to freak out, but I'm just freaking out so hard, and-"

"Avery, Avery," Loki interrupts. He pulls away, takes my face in his hands, and finds my gaze. "Breathe. I'm not freaking out, and neither should you. You only did what the spell made you do." He kisses my forehead tenderly and pulls me back in his arms. "The plan is developing just how we hoped."

"What if he's scared off now? What if the other Avery ruined everything?"

Loki smirks. "How could someone with charms such as yours ever scare someone off?"

I don't say anything even though my brain rattles off a rather lengthy list of how I would do such a thing and instead nuzzle closer into Loki's chest. "I suppose I'm just nervous about blowing everything. There's so much on the line… I don't want to ruin our chances at ruling."

"You've nothing to fear, my love. It's only the beginning. Do not stress yourself so." He pulls back again, tilts my head up with a single finger under my chin, and brushes his lips against mine as light as a feather before kissing me fully. When he pulls away, his lips seem to take my worry away with them. He rests his head against mine, his gaze soft though intent with mine. "Now, what else happened today?"

In time, I relay all that I knew: Fury's grant of freedom for me; Stark's suspicion and my concern on the matter: I even mention how I almost paid Loki a visit before Rogers stopped me (of course warranting some cocky remark about how I can't resist Loki even when I hate him).

By the time I'm done, Loki seems pleased. He smiles again and pecks my lips tenderly. "You've done remarkably well for your first day truly out. Now what are you doing tomorrow?"

"I don't know. Rogers only said he'd be by my quarters in the morning."

"Then do exactly as you have, darling. In time, all the pieces of our plan will fall into place."

I stay only a little while longer, discussing what to do when Earth is under our rule, before Loki dismisses me with a gentle kiss to my forehead and an order to report to him tomorrow evening, and with a happy smile on my face as I crawl into bed, I allow the spell to wash back over me.


End file.
